"Every passing minute is another chance to turn it all around."
Vanilla Sky
Woman, writer, editor, geek, redhead, new yorker, brooklynite, consummate culture consumer and critic. I'm T of
T-Sides. You can also find me on
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Give me what you've got: taylorlong at gmail dot com.
“Last year was the strangest year I’d ever been involved in, it was the most brutal and bizzare—I’d lost Jack and been given more money than I’d ever seen in one place, and I’d been fainting more, falling more. I was feeling everything too much. Everything was pulling at my eyes. I spent hours floating in pools. I sat on terraces and stared for afternoons at mediocre views. I was feeling overjoyed for happy couples. I would see or hear about people, usually people I hardly knew or didn’t even like, getting together, finding each other after so much groping, and I would feel bliss. I was being blindsided by familiar things. I was pulling over to the side of the road, my head resting on the side window, trying to understand why things could be so
green. Songs were knocking me from wall to wall, certain songs in certain progressions strained my eyes, roughed up my throat, brought me near tears without delivering me to any kind of catharsis. I was shaking my head at how perfect some song was, and then I was in the car, on the way to Kmart to buy a lesson kit, convinced I could teach myself piano and with my exceptional taste, make an album and then I would double back and think
Fuck, I should learn to fly airplanes. That’s the thing I really want to do.
Fly planes. But it would take years, and I needed it quicker.”