There’s a short circuit between my brain and my tongue, thus ‘Leave me the fuck alone’ comes out as ‘Well, maybe. Sure. I guess I can see your point.
If it’s meant for you, you won’t have to beg for it. You will never have to sacrifice your dignity for your destiny.
Take me to your trees. Take me to your breakfasts, your sunsets, your bad dreams, your shoes, your nouns. Take me to your fingers.
— Margaret Atwood, In Other Worlds