glory! : carries name necklace, natasha

washer

Goodnight my love Remember me as you fall to sleep Fill your pockets with the dust and the memories That rises from the shoes on my feet I won't be back here Though we may meet again I know it's dark outside Don't be afraid Everytime I ever cried from fear Was just a mistake that I made Wash yourself in your tears And build your church On the strength of your faith Please Listen to me Don't let go Don't let this desperate moonlight leave me With your empty pillow Promise me the sun will rise again I too am tired now Embracing thoughts of tonight's dreamless sleep My head is empty My toes are warm I am safe from harm...

Sunday, May 12, 2024

carries name necklace, natasha

i dont want to talkl about it much but ive been thinking about two thingies in sex and the city.

obviously the character carrie is quite annoying and immature, and cruel at times. but her entire feud about natasha strikes such a chord with me. i always thought it was a class thing mostly. natasha was born to old money and carrie came from little. the way they dress; natasha is towering, beautiful and classy, per se. her clothes are simple and neutral. carries are, well. theyre carries. shes always been known for that very young, very extravagant, fearless fashion.

i relate to carrie in that sense, i feel too young and too out there sometimes. i feel like a clown. i feel ridiculous besides the girls in my university. powerless. theyre clean and i have a grown out buzzcut and wear ugly clothes. my stacks on stacks of rings and necklaces and bracelets im tattooed all over etc. these girls look clean and quiet. their hair is shiny and long. their skins are clear.

it breaks my heart seeing carrie try to tower over natasha, when its just not in her to sacrifice her sense of style. she cant wear the white cami and the whatever. she cant be as beautiful. she cant. she meets her in a tiny crop top and a cowboy hat while natasha was wearing a simple white slip.

i think of carries name necklace. this scene where carrie is in paris and tries to sacrifice herself for this new, clean metamorphosis. she finds her carrie necklace, a staple of her immature, "trashy" (PER SE!) style in a hole in her dior bag. she remembers who she is and she runs back. new york carrie bursts through her and its very beautiful.

i had a moment like that. ive been having it. whatever.

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sylvia plath, the bell jar

I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.

Psalm 18: 6-11

In my distress I called upon the Lord, And cried out to my God; He heard my voice from His temple, And my cry came before Him, even to His ears. Then the earth shook and trembled; The foundations of the hills also quaked and were shaken, Because He was angry. Smoke went up from His nostrils, And devouring fire from His mouth; Coals were kindled by it. He bowed the heavens also, and came down With darkness under His feet. And He rode upon a cherub, and flew; He flew upon the wings of the wind. He made darkness His secret place; His canopy around Him was dark waters And thick clouds of the skies.