None of This Is True

When she doesn’t like the reality of things, she finds a reality she prefers.

But I suppose the problem is that people often don’t realize that their lives are changing for the better until after the event, when they stop to look back.

Do not claim that you are anything other than what you are. An evil motherfucking basic bitch. ‘My name is Alix Summer.

And there it is, the point which it all boils down to eventually. The point where there are no words, no theories, no explanations for behaviors that baffle and infuriate and hurt. Just that. Men.

And as awful as it sounds, death is a clean break. There are no gray areas. No ambiguity. It’s like a blank canvas in a way.

Jojo’s got what you might call an elastic relationship with the truth.” “Elastic?” she repeats. “Yeah. She, er… how can I put it? When she doesn’t like the reality of things, she finds a reality she prefers.

The energy they give off is effervescent, a swirling, intoxicating aurora borealis of grating, glorious entitlement.

You know, like when you’re driving down windy roads and you deliberately close your eyes for a second, just to see what happens. So that’s what I did.

But I guess maybe everyone has a purpose. Though some are harder to fathom than others.

I just wanted—and I know how bad this sounds—but I wanted her to be somewhere else. Not at home. I hated it when she was at home; she cast this mood, this atmosphere. I didn’t want to talk to her. I didn’t… God save my soul, I didn’t like her.

But then she looks again at the blurred version of herself in the big window and suddenly she sees that the half-finished portrait is that of a queenly woman, not a gauche girl, and she knows that finally, after all these years, it is time to hold her life up to the light.

Acting as if there is something wrong with me, when there isn't. It's the world that's wrong, you and I both know that.

She was making a true crime podcast, out of the events of her own life.

And he just looked at me and his eyes were this color, I don’t even know if there’s a word for it. Just the most incredible shade of nothing.

a sort of blundering, thoughtless, aimless approach to life. A “do the thing and worry about it later” approach.

Remember you have choices.

But what I’ve found, Nathan, is that life shows you the way when you forget to make one. So, you know, let’s wait and see.

Hi! I’m Your Birthday Twin! A NETFLIX ORIGINAL SERIES

A WEAK MAN CAN’T LOVE A STRONG WOMAN. HE WON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH HER.

Once again, she is struck by the sheer blandness of him, the impenetrable wall of nothingness between his physical being and the rest of the world. Yet he is clearly a master gaslighter. Behind the dead eyes lies the soul of a groomer and a liar and an abuser. She feels a bolt of ice shoot through her core and shivers slightly.

Where Josie is stiff and unanimated, her mother is all expansive hand gestures and chatter. She’s glamorous, too, clearly takes care of her appearance, sees herself as a woman worthy of attention and respect.

her and Walter on to the internet for people to gawp at and to judge makes her feel queasy. But she’s happy for others to do so. She’s a consummate lurker. She never posts, she never comments, she never likes. She just looks.

Absolutely spine-chilling stuff, with some shocking glimpses into the darkest corners of humanity: we guarantee you’ll be bingeing the whole thing in a day.

Both women fall silent. Then Josie sighs and says, ‘Men.’ And there it is, the point which it all boils down to eventually. The point where there are no words, no theories, no explanations for behaviours that baffle and infuriate and hurt. Just that. Men.

A tube rumbles along the tracks beyond the big window and Josie sees her face as a blurred reflection in the glass. She looks like a half-finished painting, she observes, waiting for the artist to come back and add the detail.

Then she pulls on her favorite dress; it’s made of denim and buttons up the front to a shirt collar and ties up at the waist with a matching belt. She wears it with her denim Vans and appraises herself in the full-length mirror.

She does not have to leave on Saturday. She smiles and heads up the next flight of stairs to her room next to Eliza’s on the top floor.

We’re very lucky. Most people work hard, don’t they? But not everyone gets to live in a house like this.

But it is clear to Alix that Pat is actually a raging narcissist, and that no child of a narcissist ever makes it out into the world unscathed. This knowledge adds nuance to her view of Josie, helps make more sense of her.

So, in your opinion, Walter didn’t groom Josie?” “Groom her? You mean manipulate her into a relationship with him? No. I don’t think so. I think she saw him, she wanted him, she got him. She didn’t care who she hurt. She’s never cared who she hurt.