- me to a white person: what's your ethnicity
- white person: i'm 1/4 vanilla bean, 2 cups of skim milk, 3 tablespoons of tapioca, 1 teaspoon of corn starch etc
straight friend: aw I don’t understand why you’re still single
me: because approximately 8% of the us population identifies under the lgbtq community where 1.1% identifies as lesbian female, 3.5% as bisexual female, 1.7% as gay male, 1.1% as bisexual male, .3% as trans, and .3% as something else, then there’s finding someone who I’m compatible with emotionally, physically, and romantically from less than 8% of the population, and may or may not live near me
I strongly identify with wood elves because I too like to drink wine and talk about how men are failing
At 19, I read a sentence that re-terraformed my head: “The level of matter in the universe has been constant since the Big Bang.”
In all the aeons we have lost nothing, we have gained nothing - not a speck, not a grain, not a breath. The universe is simply a sealed, twisting kaleidoscope that has reordered itself a trillion trillion trillion times over.
Each baby, then, is a unique collision - a cocktail, a remix - of all that has come before: made from molecules of Napoleon and stardust and comets and whale tooth; colloidal mercury and Cleopatra’s breath: and with the same darkness that is between the stars between, and inside, our own atoms.
When you know this, you suddenly see the crowded top deck of the bus, in the rain, as a miracle: this collection of people is by way of a starburst constellation. Families are bright, irregular-shaped nebulae. Finding a person you love is like galaxies colliding. We are all peculiar, unrepeatable, perambulating micro-universes - we have never been before and we will never be again. Oh God, the sheer exuberant, unlikely face of our existences. The honour of being alive. They will never be able to make you again. Don’t you dare waste a second of it thinking something better will happen when it ends. Don’t you dare.