contributing writer @wearemel, @ringer, & @splicetoday. seen in @theatlantic, @parisreview, &c. repped by @inkwellmgmt. co-host of @whatisleftpod 
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most people hate their friends, relatives, and colleagues to an extent not easily reducible to writing. but some of them - not as many, but still some - love their friends, relatives, and colleagues to an extent not easily reducible to writing.
The former category is growing and the latter category is shrinking, as self absorption and crowdsourced groupthink (the “mind’s I” of those alone in a crowd that gives them perfect one way feedback”) continue to become the primary lens for perceiving the world. Neat
“I am not what I am” is the sort of complicated self analysis no longer possible. A modification of Popeye’s “I am what I am,” as “I am what I say I am and you damn well better say I am too,” is here to stay, for the time being. Cool.
Parents and children have hated each other and loved each other, and romantic partners have hated each other and loved each other, etc. “to love your neighbor as yourself” has always meant to love and hate them as you love and hate yourself. Now your neighbor must just love you
I used to hate my father so much that I wanted to kill him, and I loved him more than life itself, and he attempted to kill me, and he certainly loved me, and since his death all I can do is forgive the part of him that lives in me, and redeem that part, and move on. That's all
If I were holding a sledgehammer, even when told to by him, he'd say something like, "I'm sure you're thinking about killing me with that." And this when I was 8-10 years old! But he'd always add that he had been a son as well, to his own father, and that was all he thought about
That's an insane thing to articulate, I suppose, but in that madness is the divinest sense, because this is essentially the way that most people have to sit with their feelings, and his feelings and mine were "big feels" to be sure, and we realized they weren't our only "feels"
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