Late yesterday, we drove down to Kathryn's parents' place, where we filmed last weekend. I'd hoped being away from the city might help the darkness that's been creeping back over me the past week or so. I know the meds are still working, even if it feels like they're not. Anyway, yeah, so we went to the farm. And at first I did have hope. I napped
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Comments 36
I would like that.
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I would like that.
Somehow, you would be involved. Definitely.
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Its so interesting that you mention them. Your "personal apocalypse" stories are some of my faves. For whatever reason I have re-read "A Bone's Prayer" and "Sanderlings" multiple times and always back to back. Your thematic dealings with the ocean and the unknowable things that come forth from her always spellbind and terrify me, just like the actual ocean herself.
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For whatever reason I have re-read "A Bone's Prayer" and "Sanderlings" multiple times and always back to back.
They're almost the same stories, and that was an accident.
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I would contribute to this in a heartbeat.
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Thank you.
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I'm sorry it has you. I'm sorry it has anyone. No one deserves or should have to live with this. If I knew a way to burn it out, I would.
For whatever it's worth to you, you're in my heart. And Casanova sends purrs, he jumped up on me while I was typing this especially to purr *really* loudly in your direction. Or, at least, the direction of your livejournal.
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No one deserves or should have to live with this.
But we have to consider that without it we wouldn't even be having this conversation, and I certainly wouldn't be me. This changes nothing, of course.
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The flipside of "it's not fair, it just is" is "it just is, it's not fair."
Though I'm glad of this glittery moment in this place, I can't be grateful for the reasons we both came to be here. I know that's not what you were getting at, but still. Though the darkness brought us here in a thousand little ways, I can't be thankful for the darkness just for that.
This comment is in danger of turning into a poem.
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The flipside of "it's not fair, it just is" is "it just is, it's not fair."
There is, in all the universe, not such objective beast as Fairness. It's as imaginary as Justice, Good, Sin, and Evil.
All things "just are."
And gratitude, well, I am grateful for moments and things and people. But I am, in no general way, grateful. Am I grateful for the crucible? I'm pretty sure I said I wasn't, but only pointed out the obvious consequences that would follow from having been forged some other way.
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I've seen Sanderlings being sold second-hand on Amazon, and I am sorely tempted. The Bone's Prayer I came across once in Waterstones, but I cannot remember where it's collected.
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something like the "Colour" edition of HOL? Oak leaves for bookmarks?).
Something like that.
The Bone's Prayer I came across once in Waterstones, but I cannot remember where it's collected.
Some "year's best horror" or another. I think.
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All the elements working in "The Bone's Prayer" are what makes your work so brilliant and impossible to confine. Its surreal, speculative, dark, fantastic, mythical, cerebral, & fucking scary as Hell. Def one of my recent faves.
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Nice icon.
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