“My brain instantly traveled back to my parents’ dining room table. I’d sat there every morning with my brain-storming notebook—my father’s idea—and I would do my homework or write song lyrics or journal on something I’d seen on the news. That was back when I’d been sure I was going to change the world.”

“My whole life I’d fooled myself into thinking I didn’t need his love, but I’d been wrong. Everyone needed their father’s love.”

“Seire,” I said, the phrase bubbling up from someplace deep inside my heart. Be victorious. Another word, a phrase I’d never learned, that had magically planted itself in my brain. “I always am,” she replied without turning back. “Go. You have a job to do.”

“Sometimes my thoughts are too slimy for my brain, and they come shooting out of my penis. They are life-changing thoughts, so I’d recommend taking them deep inside of you.
”

“It was as if something snapped in two deep inside me. My parents-- the people I’d loved the most in the world, the ones I’d always told all my secrets to, the ones I’d wanted to hide with far away from the rest of the world. They had lied, and I couldn’t imagine why. It couldn’t possibly matter why.”

“I was eleven when my father left, so neither of us really knew our fathers. I’d met mine of course, but then I only knew my dad as a child knows a parent, as a sort of crude outline filled in with one or two colors. I’d never seen my father scared or cry. I’d never heard him admit to any wrongdoing. I have no idea what he dreamed of. And once I’d seen a smile pinned to one cheek and darkness to the other when my mum had yelled at him. Now he was gone, and I was left with just an impression—one of male warmth, big arms, and loud laughter.”