Or the account of my decline into barbarism (and all of the lovely, mad people who helped me do it).
Friday, March 12, 2010
Years from now, when I narrate my life to new generations, I won't remember the chapters I forgot to read. I'll remember the first boy I ever fell in love with and his blue eyes. I'll remember feeling beautiful and walking hand-in-hand with my best friends or driving through the rain at midnight, laughing and shoving french fries in my mouth. We magnify what's important to us. Fuck the rest.