...painfully Curious...about How It Feels To Fall.

At Times It May Seem Worse - Harder, At Least - To Live Through The Despair Of This Loss Without The Temporary Comfort Of Our Addictive Behaviour. We Cannot Drown Our Sorrows. We Must Face The Fact That We Don’t Know, Really, Where We Are, How We Got Here, How Long The Pain Will Last, Or How To Move Past It. That Uncertainty May Be The Most Painful Part Of Not Knowing A God: No One Is There To Reassure Us That A God Will Take The Pain And Confusion Away. We Simply Don’t Know. And We Have No Way To Numb Ourselves Or To Forget The Condition We’re In.

We Turn Skeletons Into Goddesses And Look To Them As If They Might Teach Us How Not To Need.

The Idea Of My Future Simultaneously Thrilled And Terrified Me, Like Standing At The Lip Of A Very Sheer Cliff- I Could Fly, Or Fall. I Didn't Know How To Fly, And I Didn't Want To Fall. So I Backed Away From The Cliff And Went In Search Of Something That Had A Clear, Solid Trajectory For Me To Follow, Like Hopscotch.

Some People Who Are Obsessed With Food Become Gourmet Chefs. Others Become Eating Disorders.

I Mean, We All Know The Dangers Of Starving, But Bulimia? That Can't Be That Bad. It's Only Bad When You Get Really Thin. Who Worries About Bulimics? They're Just Gross.