But, Like Ivy, We Grow Where There

I Think There's Something Spiritual In A Very Day-to-day, Mundane Existence. It's Impossible To Articulate, And It's Happening Now, Almost Like A Perverse Secret. . . . That's Always Sort Of Fascinating To Me.

And Why Had Deb's Last Boyfriend Dumped Her? I Dumped Him. Maybe You Didn't French-kiss Him Enough. I Promise You That Wasn't It. Tell Me How Many Times A Day You Kissed, And I'll Say If It Was Enough. Four Hundred. Not Enough.

My Earliest Memory Is Aged Three, Seeing Sunlight On Water And Feeling It Was Really Magical.

People Who Would Not Be Using The Word Gender Or Thinking About Gayness Or Trans-ness May Actually, Without Even Thinking About It, Be Not Their Own Gender In Their Inner World. I Think That's Actually So Normal, Because Female Sexuality Is Sold To All Of Us. It Doesn't Just Reach The Eyes Of Men. You Might Not Care About The Idea Of Boobs Or Jugs Or Whatever, But It Could Impact Your Inner Sexual Life.

I Steeled Myself Against Laughter; I Would Rather Die Than Laugh. I Didn’t Laugh, I Did Not Laugh. But I Died, I Did Die.