my friend ben has said that books have answers that we should really pay more attention to. if this is true (which i assume it to be- i find few voices of truth more compelling than those of ben and of literature) then...
i swear that, if a sea of strife and carpenter ants start devouring my home, i'm going to leave my silver mirror behind and get the hell out.
if i am in need of warmth and understanding, i'm not going to look past the transgender football star.
when the only clue i have is a key, i'm going to try every lock in new york city.
as i become a linguist, i'll keep in mind that i'll never be able to connect two people as gently as a song can.
and if i shoot a man on in the bright daylight of the beach in southern france, i'm going to suck it up and plead guilty.
can you tell which books i love the most?
photos by sam rutkin
