“Once we started arguing about Captain Planet, I knew that something had gone terribly wrong. No one could possibly fit me this way. Curling my mask into memory, shouting that this, this bond right here is a refuge on those days when your lonely tries to get the best of you. ‘Joshua, you were someone I invented over and over in my head. One day I simply settled for the fact that you did not exist.’ When a women kicks game like that, how do you resist. How do you say anything except ‘Lay here next to me, your open palm is the password to my chest. You speak and my entire body shifts genre. I am a thousand folk songs now; I am an entire coastline bellowing from the depths of Woody Guthrie’s guitar. Weekends where the trip from New York to New England compels me to dream that the other people on the Bolt Bus are old friends cheering for us, excited to hear about the whole trip on the way back. This is magic. But it is robust, grown folks magic.”
| — | Joshua Bennett, “Plankton" |
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