01.09.05 - 2:18 p.m.

i'm as guilty of pessimism as anyone, but i'm asking the world to please, as a birthday present to me, stop this inability to get excited about the unimportant. stop feeling contempt for your friends because of something one person did to you. stop finding fault for the tiniest flaw in a plan. stop considering everyone incapable of understanding. stop getting so snippy on the phone with strangers who are only trying to make it through the day without incident. stop questioning artists', loved ones', writers' and casual acquaintances' motives unless they've given you good reason to. john irving talked on the daily show about the time when he almost killed kurt vonnegut, trying to save his life, and i very nearly got out stationery and a pen to write him a letter of apology for ever thinking a prayer for owen meany was anything short of utterly sincere.

humanity, i don't hate you and i don't think e.e. did, either, but sometimes you just wear me out.



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