follow the joy

I was listening to Paramore’s “Misery Business,” a song about delighting in the misery of your boyfriend’s inferior ex and enjoying the thought of them seeing you two together. I really love that song—it’s kind of slut shamey, but honestly, like, I don’t know man, a bop is a bop—and I listen to it before I play tennis to get in a cruel and competit... See more

Sometimes maybe it’s best, in art and writing, to be as dumb as possible, follow the joy, because at the very least that's real. And there, you’ve taken the first step towards the truth.

For a long time, I didn’t really take notes as I read. I didn’t know how . But over the years, I built a process of notetaking that was mostly underlining and writing gay in the margins.

I think if I solely loved it, I wouldn’t be me. And if I was solely terrified by it, you’d never have heard my name.

I’m old enough to tell young people now, that doesn’t change. I got some bad news for you: There’s always just got to be both. And hopefully more of that joy — which I think I’ve had.

Thanks for being here and for being nervous with me. I hope this week you see a bird you’ve been looking for, that you get to do a few of the things you love, and that if you love bran muffins you don’t feel shy about it.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that America runs on Dunkin and BookTok runs on Romantasy.

From the ribs up, there’s no xylitol pain, and ribs-up is where the tender will most be enjoyed, mouth and the top of the stomach. Might as well have some pleasure in the mouth. I am not someone who finds stomach pain to be an appetite suppressant. Physical pain and food pleasure are two radio channels I can listen to simultaneously. The food might... See more