‘I soon understood that if I wanted to get my father back I was going to have to help him get rid of the competition.’
It was Mom who didn’t love him. As far back as I can remember, their marriage was an endless round of shouts and reproaches marked by timeouts to send me off to brush my teeth. They must have had a few good moments together, but I never witnessed any. Maybe they took place while I was brushing my …
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‘The anglophone world, we have to infer, has run out of words for its own feelings.’
Daisy Hildyard on the wisdom of scarecrows.
‘What is the read receipt for?’
Lillian Fishman on texting, power and the ethics of leaving a friend on read.
‘Like pretty much everyone who uses the internet, I have seen many terrible things that I did not search for and that I cannot unsee.’
Rosanna McLaughlin on what the internet thinks she wants.
‘I have a pathological addiction to the internet, which I indulge with the excuse of making art. It rarely translates to anything good and mostly leaves me overstimulated and afraid.’
Paul Dalla Rosa on excess and the internet.
‘rumors of bees on speedwell, / no oxidative stress just / effortless pollination’
Two poems by Sylvia Legris.
‘When I met her, I kept thinking: is she looking at me? Or rather, is she looking inside me?’
‘We shouldn’t just study people through their archives, but also by being witness to their dreams.’
‘He chewed on the syllables until they sounded the way they did in movies.’
‘I realize it is my fault: whenever I live in any country, everything turns wrong. I see it as a gift.’
‘Once I came home at the end of August, it was as if nothing had ever happened. Indeed, nothing had.‘
