In acquiring a taste for contemplating paradoxes like these, I have gradually become repelled by tidy faith.

A clean Profit and Loss Statement? Yes, please. Say no more.

He hit a nerve. I felt tears welling and my hold on the doorknob tightened.

I remembered how committed I once was to finding beauty in the mundane of my everyday life and how that skill has gone rusty.

I take snippets of what hits all over again; what I want to keep.

I had just turned 8 the year that the whole sham was exposed.

I have things to get done and winter’s 4 pm sunsets aren’t helping.

The experience of laying the paper out and peeling it over for whatever reason enthralled me.

49% chance.

A haiku calling on the powers of vitamin C to ward off a cold.

I’m returning to a normal pace of life.

A big screen. Pitch black. Your butt in a lawn chair.

No one’s been there for me like you have.

Have you ever heard of sleep inertia?

Has anyone figured out how to slow down time?

I quickly added the list to my ever-growing collection of questions and decided to answer them for myself.

“I want to understand why you like being alone so much. I don’t get it.” Until he brought it up, I don’t think I got it either.

I want to update my makeup routine. I’m pretty sure it doesn’t suit my face.

If you try to take these from me, I’ll scream.

In this rewatch, I’m fascinated all over again by how complex people are.