I guess I’ve taken the long, hard way back to what I knew at like sixteen, which had to do with freedom as a spilling over from one bright, unbearable impossibility into the next, a jailbreak from nations and histories and plans, the joy winding arms round the pain that rips us to shreds, unsurvivable but without which we’re nothing already, just gone, irreparably forever dispossessed
— Daniel Sarah Karasik, from “Spilling Over,” Plenitude









