I want to be right. I want to be righteous. I want to believe in life after death. I want to believe in life.

There is no end to information. There will always be trivia, there will always be something else for us to learn. You will always know everything. I will always have said what I’ve said before. You will always know things. I will always be repeating myself.

My mother used to say to me in one of her only perfect anglicisms, “once is enough!” when I whined, because I whined in repetition. My father used to chide me that no one liked a know-it-all, and he still would if I let him talk to me, probably. I have to indicate how little I know, or men will continue to chide me for being a know-it-all.

There is such a thing as being left alone too long. And these days there is such a thing as the wrong person knowing the right things. I am not defending the wrong people knowing the right things, but I wish I knew there was another life after this one, and then I could experience everything I wanted and still be righteous.

I panic when I think that I won’t get what I want, so I tell myself the wanting is the problem, but the wanting is my destiny. I want to be right. I want to be righteous. I want to believe in life after this one.