The night sky alight over the field was the view of my childhood I could never capture, so in the too-cold, in heels and a skirt, I climbed the sidewalk hill to the edge of the street where night met the asphalt and did what I dreamed of


It takes exactly the wrong thing to understand what's right


For two solid hours we let the guitar remind us why we were there in the first place with four neverending chords


I want to listen to something to break my heart, because I am a white girl who has considered suicide, but I haven't found my rainbow


Some days restore your faith in humanity


I remember what good is when I find tears in my eyes as I am reminded that no one mourns the wicked


Wandering around the city at 116th and Broadway alone, I search for a hat and myself. I find them on the corner in purple and in a dollar to take her picture


In matching sweaters planning our apartment in New York, I find that it's like we haven't been apart at all


Love is in pictures in the morning and yellow cups with root beer and car rides down the main line and the train at Ardmore bound for Harrisburg


I want to be somewhere that gives me warm fuzzies


She pointed out that the perfectly ordinary places of your childhood are magical, and it was magical to me too in nature in the middle of my urban dreamscape with people and movement in the chilly wind


I grew up in a piano bar at 46th between 8th and 9th with a former cruise director, a nails-painted 5'3" gay singer, and Chocolatina Q. Desserts (dressed as Martin), and there I realized I was home


I'm in doubt of the impossible numbers on the screen that spell out some sort of impossible feat. I know this means something, but I don't know what yet


I was there the day they changed history