“To be nobody-but-yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody but yourself - means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight - and never stop fighting.”—e.e. cummings
The guy who told me “Nice rack” outside of Bar Reis apologizes for what he said without me having to snap back at him or tell him he’s out of line.
My 6th grade classmate can go back to her childhood and feel like she doesn’t have to flash her boobs to her crush in the school cafeteria, because he asked nicely, even though she didn’t want to.
The man who told my friend “Nice to see a woman thinking, that doesn’t happen much” quivers in fear at the force of her wisdom and intelligence and doesn’t dare open his mouth with anything other than “what a brilliant idea…”.
Someday I will thank Sufjan Stevens, ABBA, and Nashville for paradise.
For the late night trips to the drug store with my baby sister belting out “Decatur” or “Mistress Witch”.
For jumping on a trampoline to “Super-Trouper” with my mama when I was a little kid and we didn’t have money for Toys R Us.
For barreling down country highways or the ghetto-most parts of Bushwick with Sara singing country songs thinking that happiness isn’t so elusive. It just needs a little wind in your hair and someone to sing along with.