"Like the citrus glow off the old orange grove, Or the red rocket blaze over Cape Canaveral. It’s been a nightmare to me, Some 1980’s grief, Gives me parachute dreams Like old war movies While the universe was drawing Perfect circles for infinity.
I watched the stars get smaller, Tiny diamonds in my memory. I know that victory is sweet, Even deep in the cheap seats”
“If you are sad, ask yourself why you are sad. Then pick up the phone and call someone and tell him or her the answer to the question. If you don’t know anyone, call the operator and tell him or her. Most people don’t know that the operator has to listen, it is a law. Also, the postman is not allowed to go inside your house, but you can talk to him on public property for up to four minutes or until he wants to go, whichever comes first.”—No One Belongs Here More Than You, Miranda July. (via sunlit-skies)