“Loki was interested in things because he was interested in them, and in the way they were in the…”
- A. S. Byatt, Ragnarok: The End Of The Gods.

Women In Trees: A Charming Genre, Rediscovered. Hirschy Hirschfelder photographed by Sebastian Sabal-Bruce for The Line Vol. 4 December 26, 2016.
If you’re an adult, do the stuff you couldn’t as a kid.
Like, me and my sister went to a museum, and they had an extra exhibit of butterflies. But it cost £3. So we sighed, walked past, then stopped. We each had £3. We could see the butterflies. And we did it was great. We followed it up with an ice-cream as well because Mum and Dad weren’t there to say no.
I was driving back from a work trip with 2 other people in their early 20s, and we drove past a MacDonalds. One of the others went “Aww man, I’d love a McFlurry.” And the guy driving pulled in to the drive through. It was wild. But it was great.
I went to a park over the weekend and I was thinking “Man, I’d love to hire one of those bikes and cycle round the park.” It took me a few minutes to go “Wait, I can hire one of those bikes!”
I guess what I’m saying is, those impulsive things you wanted to do as a kid - see the dinosaur exhibit, play in the fountains with the other kids, lie in the shade for 2 hours - you can do when you’re an adult. You have to deal with a whole lot of other bull, but at least you can indulge your inner 8 year-old.
Shockingly, I am incapable of anything, anything at all. I’m going to dig a hole and settle down into it and wait for the rain to submerge me.

I think I’m always chasing that particular high you only get from certain rare stories - the ones that resonate with you on a strange personal level, like an implacable aroma that reminds you of something that was once very dear to you but has somehow been forgotten. Those stories that rewire your brain just a little, just for a while. Not every great story has this effect - I have enjoyed many excellent books and movies that did not change me.
It’s just that now and then, if you’re very lucky, you’ll come across a story that feels like home, or a like limb you didn’t even know you had or how you got by all these years without using it. These stories haunt you and become part of your personal canon.