instead of venting my anger, which is really just hurt dressed up for a night on the town, I ask if anyone needs a drink.

instead of venting my anger, which is really just hurt dressed up for a night on the town, I ask if anyone needs a drink.

Ron Currie Jr.
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...no one likes change unless it is from sommething bad to something good...

Ron Currie Jr., Everything Matters!
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Partying means drinking. It also means playing records by Lou Reed and Chicago, which I thought was a city but is also a band it turns out.

Ron Currie Jr., Everything Matters!
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Love, in its purest form, is biology.

Ron Currie Jr., Everything Matters!
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instead of venting my anger, which is really just hurt dressed up for a night on the town, I ask if anyone needs a drink.

Ron Currie Jr., Everything Matters!
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Everything ends, and Everything matters. Everything matters not in spite of the end of you and all that you love, but because of it. Everything is all you’ve got…and after Everything is nothing. So you were wise to welcome Everything, the good and the bad alike, and cling to it all. Gather it in. Seek the meaning in sorrow and don’t ever turn away, not once, from here until the end. Because it is all the same, it is all unfathomable, and it is all infinitely preferable to the one dreadful alternative.

Ron Currie Jr., Everything Matters!
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One aspect of perfection, after all, it stands to reason, will be that our need for imperfection will cease. Or, perhaps more precisely: that imperfection itself will cease to have meaning.

Ron Currie Jr., Flimsy Little Plastic Miracles
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Because she hides. She doesn't realize it, I don't think, but she hides. Sometimes right in front of you. She can be sitting across from you at a table in a nice dining room somewhere and the expression on her face changes suddenly and she disappears, is in a very real and unmistakable way no longer there. You always find yourself reaching for her an instant too late, and grasping at smoke.

Ron Currie Jr., Flimsy Little Plastic Miracles
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And when you try to live there, to live in a place where you're betraying yourself over and over, not only do you grow to resent the hell out of it, and resent the hell out of whomever you're betraying and censoring yourself for, but the very idea of your self begins slowly and inexorably to erode. Until you realize one day out of the clear blue that you have no idea who your self is, anymore.

Ron Currie Jr., Flimsy Little Plastic Miracles
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