it’s never all or nothing, young or old, drive or no drive, ambition or slack, sex or no sex, gay or straight, love or no love, words or no words, deserving or not, getting or missing the point, sharpened or dull, smart or not smart, healthy or sick, abled or dis-, holding on or letting go, living or dead— it’s always always always something in between. (and that’s why life is such a fucking nightmare (or a brittle paradise, depending on the wheel of fortune) for anyone who thinks they have to play a certain role or live out a prescribed narrative, whether they realize they think they do or not)