I think I’ve lost the practiced falseness of what it means
to be impossibly young. The fingernail moon
hangs over the welt on my goosepimpled thigh. Where
does the world go when not inside me?
“Personally, not a huge fan of the direction your magazine has gone in.”
I am supposed to call myself a survivor, but honestly I don’t think surviving is what I’ve been doing.
Storm clouds dangle from the sky, the colour and consistency of wet cotton. Way back in the nineties, when long plastic sausages of cotton discs were a luxury that only the cornucopian West could
I LOVE FUNYUNS!
I’m bewildered.
Those onion-flavored,
puffed up rings always
the last offering of the
vending machine.
They are waiting on
my gentle tearing.
PepsiCo is more
I would talk to the doll, then it would talk back to me, reflecting me to myself. And then I’d adjust my behavior accordingly. And, eventually, become a better, less annoying person. It’s kind of genius in a way?
Under a contrived knit brow, his eyes aimlessly drifted among a thicket of words, until they happened to stop on depling, noun, German to Middle English, a child born to older parents, and thus he found a new label for himself, more succinct than his mother’s change-of-life baby and less piercing than faggot, which Joey Novakis and his friends would blurt as they passed him in the school hallways.
Okay guys today I'm going to be making you one of my favorite dishes from childhood with a couple of my own little twists. My mom used to make this all the time and I just love it. It's suuuper
While I sucked my husband’s penis he gaped at the sky, to which he exclaimed, “That’s the most orange orange I have ever seen!”
A furious hellhound runs at her. Katja kicks this final test away. Lashes a heel into the beast’s sternum. And she feels nothing. Numbed somehow inside her phalanx of a thousand suns. Only rags and ragged breathing, one of her eyes damaged red to melting: She feels nothing.
I hadn’t notified Interview magazine abt it
I hadn’t tweeted abt it either
I wasn’t post alt lit
Or a genius
The Girl Who Loves to Clean
The girl had a messy childhood. It was littered with loud noises and tons of shouting. Sometimes these were happy sounds: the scream of excitement tumbling down the
You were familiar with this posture, of a girl waiting for someone to notice her not notice them.
There are times when you just want to go up to no one in particular, and say, “Fuck you and the nutsack that held nightmare-you for x amount of time,” even if, and perhaps especially when, the eventual target is your own face.
The
Idol said
Taking risks is the most important
Thing an artist can do
She wears those sharp button downs, tucked into pants with riding boots, and a blunt bob. Sometimes, even, a tie. Knotting, unknotting, re-knotting in the smudged dorm mirror, how many tries does it take to get right?
The first fries I had when I was a kid weren’t from McDonald’s but from The Odeon.
What does a lifetime of loneliness look like, feel like in the body? Athena Dixon examines this question in her second book, The Loneliness Files, published by Tin House, and edited by one of my
The first man is the only one that kills you.
—COLETTE, La Naissance du Jour
Who is Angel? Who am I.
Have you ever loved a mirror?
Laughed, on suicide watch, until Kool-Aid spilled
Is my dick the one getting off in a peanut can?
What most people don’t know is that most of your town butchers are on some kind of pill, powder, or liquid, to get them through the day.
I have a dream, after selling this book, someone asks me what it’s about. I explain and they say, So, the narrator is still pining after Finn? They put emphasis on the word ‘still.’
Internet celebrity Melissa Broder’s third novel is what one Goodreads user accurately deemed an “existential horny cactus western.”
