Sometimes We Fly

There are books that make you laugh out loud (or, in my case, bite my lip to try and silence my laughter at work) and there are books that make you cry ears of genuine understanding and relief and thanks that you’re not the only one. Jenny Lawson writes books that do both. And they speak to you. It’s like she’s crawling around my head, listening to my thoughts and spitting them back at me, which is good and bad. It’s good with the hilarious stuff (“My primary thoughts during the holidays are: ‘Stab. Stab. Stab. Run away.'”) but it can hurt to read the more true to life things (“And I visit quiet sidewalks and loud parties and dark movies, and a small demon looks out at the world with me. Sometimes it sleeps. Sometimes it plays. Sometimes it laughs with me. Sometimes it tried to kill me. But it’s always with me.”). Either way, it’s never not entertaining and I’m always left feeling more after I read her books. Like there’s more humor and more sadness and more understanding and more bullshit in the world, and we just have to embrace it all.