“I moved to New York with the derangement of love.” (karen russell)

 

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I’ve been writing on the train lately, from the bottom of the page up, in a notebook that is getting fatter and thinner at the same time.  I am not patient (which maybe does not equal impatience?). The day doesn’t really start until  I’m alone with a pen or a screen. I’m being unfair to everything else. It’s greedy. I am wholly unapologetic.

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