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I am passing out. O bitter ending! I’ll slip away before they’re up. They’ll never see. Nor know. Nor miss me. And it’s old and old it’s sad and old it’s sad and weary I go back to you, my cold father, my cold mad father, my cold mad feary father, till the near sight of the mere size of him, the moyles and moyles of it,moananoaning, makes me seasilt saltsick and I rush, my only, into your arms.
—1939, James Joyce,Finnegans Wake
Ladies, love yourself / ’Cuz this shit could get ugly
—2022, Megan Pete,Plan B