Talk of style and glory, but you never pictured me
I wrote: I pay rent on this apartment, but I'm not at home. I haven't had a home for years. I think I will die before I have anywhere I can rest.
We celebrated my mother's birthday at Tryst this evening. When we got home, I lit the candles on the cake my father had made with layers of chocolate angelfood, yellow cake and ganache, and a sauce of sour cherries; my niece who loves tearing paper off things helped my mother unwrap her birthday books. Last night I saw Alex Garland's Annihilation (2018) with
spatch and
rushthatspeaks; it's a beautiful remix of Jeff VanderMeer's novel and I want to write about it, but first I need the free time in my head and I'm realizing that I just don't get any of that between work and other necessary stresses, not for a long time now. I am not managing to write even about movies I really enjoyed. Fiction, forget it. It feels like suffocating inside my own head. I am hoping to do absolutely nothing with my day tomorrow. I would like to do absolutely nothing with my weekend, but I don't think I can afford it. I would like to do absolutely nothing for a month and then our landlord would move to evict.
There is a line in the song I'm listening to: searching for a song about a love that might have been between anxiety and hindsight. The first time I played it, I heard in between anxiety and Einstein and thought it was some kind of relativity metaphor. I am a little disappointed it was not, although I recommend the album in general. It's good personal-political punk with a non-binary singer-songwriter.
I have Autolycus on my lap and that's nice.
We celebrated my mother's birthday at Tryst this evening. When we got home, I lit the candles on the cake my father had made with layers of chocolate angelfood, yellow cake and ganache, and a sauce of sour cherries; my niece who loves tearing paper off things helped my mother unwrap her birthday books. Last night I saw Alex Garland's Annihilation (2018) with
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There is a line in the song I'm listening to: searching for a song about a love that might have been between anxiety and hindsight. The first time I played it, I heard in between anxiety and Einstein and thought it was some kind of relativity metaphor. I am a little disappointed it was not, although I recommend the album in general. It's good personal-political punk with a non-binary singer-songwriter.
I have Autolycus on my lap and that's nice.
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"The first season, which consists of eight episodes, is subtitled Bette and Joan and chronicles the rivalry between Bette Davis and Joan Crawford during and after the production of their 1962 film What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?"
I watched it and thought "I bet sovay would love this!"
ETA: It's a dramatisation, not a documentary. Susan Sarandon is amazing in it.
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If you can write about Annihilation, I would love to read it.
It is so very hard to live on a virtual Nansen passport. Autolycus and Hestia and
Nine
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The cake sounds fantastic.
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I have a friend I write with (long distance, not in person) on Saturdays, just for a half hour, and she's similarly trapped. Crushing, overwhelming dayjob, poor health, others who are dependent on her. And I know others similarly placed. It's enraging. I'd like everyone to have patrons or grants or whatever--except no: people shouldn't be dependent on others' largess. What I'd really like is for ALL PEOPLE IN SOCIETY to be able to meet their needs without having the process totally destroy them.
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In return, I do ask for some empathy because WE DON'T GET ANY OF THAT CAKE *sits forlornly in snow and points at her open, empty mouth* but in comparison it probably only merits about thirty seconds.
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I was reflecting yesterday that I've lived in my current house longer than anywhere else except for the house I grew up in. It won't get a chance to surpass that, though, because we're building a new house (intended to be the forever house) which we hope to move to this fall. I do feel as though I've found my home, in terms of the town I live in, anyway.
Good luck carving out some you-space.
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I can imagine an accessible apartment building atop the Brattle though -- you'd have so much to talk about in the elevator.
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I wish you had the home and the mental space you need.
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I would love to read your thoughts on Annihilation if you find the energy. Worriers are very good.
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