She recognized the strange happiness that came from loving something without knowing why you did, that strange happiness that was sometimes so big that it felt like sadness. It was the way she felt when she looked at the stars.
If her heart were truly a scroll, she could burn it. It would become a tunnel of flame, a handful of ash. The secrets she had written inside herself would be gone. No one would know. Her father would choose the water for Kestrel if he knew. Yet she couldn’t. In the end, it wasn’t cunning that kept her from jumping, or determination. It was a glassy fear. She didn’t want to die. Arin was right. She played a game to its end.
Really, he was so much less ‘real’ than Ronan, Adam thought—it should have been obvious. It was ludicrous that they hadn’t noticed. Ridiculous that they had not thought about his last name, about where he came from, about the classes he did or did not go to. His clammy hands, his pristine room, his unchanging smudgy face. He had been d e a d as long as they’d known him.
earlier this year, i wrote a book of poems called the anatomy of being, and with the profit i’ve been supporting myself existing in new york city and exploring the corners of this earth. if you’re interested, i hope that you think about purchasing a copy! it would really help me out, and i would really love to get my words out there. it’s more than one hundred pages of little poems, little stories, little things, with beautiful illustrations done by my beautiful sister: shinyeon moon.
"Someday, I’m going to discover all the secrets of the universe." That made me smile. "What are you going to do with all those secrets, Dante?" "I’ll know what to do with the," he said. "Maybe change the world." I believed him.