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9:40, tuesday morning
on the train this morning I finished reading Amber Gayle's Notta Lotta Love Stories. I'd spent the weekend immersed in love stories; hers and mine and the "erotica" (i.e. porn) I was proofreading for rent money. it made for a strange, moody weekend; productive, and not regretful, but strangely unfinished. I'd put down Gayle's zine on Friday night with two chapters to go, and picked it up again today, reading through my wait for the subway this morning, through the delayed ride (stopping for minutes at a time at every stop, and between stops), coming to the last page as we pulled into my station. I kept reading as I walked up the stairs into the rainy morning, and as I read the last sentence one of my new favorite songs came through my headphones, all about sweet joy and hopeful love, and somehow the combination of the two flipped a switch I didn't know existed and just like that, it was all okay.
it wasn't just Gayle's stories of the way people connect and miss each other, so universal, but her writing as well. it's so good it makes me nervous for how I'll compare when Scribble Faster #2 comes out. not favorably, I'm guessing, but still we move forward. we have to; what else is there?
"I grew up thinking I would find true love on crossing the golden threshold into adulthood. We would be drawn to each other at first sight. We would love each other enormously. We would empathize in every way and have magic sex. What I didn't expect was that gravity pulls us toward so many people, and we love, or make love, or wrap our expectations around them even when in retrospect they were not anyone in particular, not anyone at all. I loved people I could never travel through life with, and who's to know the difference until it's too late?" - from Notta Lotta Love Stories by Amber Gayle