I Think A Surprising Amount Of Writers Don’t Realize That Tragedies Are Supposed To Be Cathartic. They’re

thinking about that illustration of solitude vs loneliness in which solitude is a dog peacefully holding its own leash & loneliness is a feral dog fighting against the restraint of the leash & feeling slightly insane

I LOVE LOVE LOVE that even though every aspect of the prison is meant to pit every single prisoner against each other with forced hierarchy and competition, everyone is STILL persisting to work together. Tables coordinate to keep track of what machinery is affected by the electrocuted floor. Teams work together to find ways to assist and work with a physically and mentally-disabled teammate. Entire floors use sign language to communicate news across the entire facility.

They’re all still looking out for each other in a cage designed to make them fight like dogs

interview with the vampire (2022) // Ivan the Terrible and His Son (1885)

B2EMO

oh to be a stage girl in the 30s sitting in my uncomfortable outfit, looking all feathered & positively dazzling in a dressing room packed with other feathered n positively dazzling ladies, sighing because my good stockings have ripped again & having another one of the girls touch the rip on the back of my thigh with tenderness before she tuts & says ‘that’s too bad, sugar. let’s see if i have some that will fit you’. oh to try on the same tights that have been on her legs & to have her say ‘the trick is petroleum jelly’ before she makes me wiggle them down so she can get out a tub of vaseline and make me shine from the waist down & then tell me we’re gonna be stars together one day and we don’t need anyone else but each other and for me to climb over all the snoring girls late at night to lay right next to her & hold her tender hands & say ‘yeah, ok, just me and you’

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE (2022-) — Lestat… you must think me an idiot.

This scene is still living rent free in my head

you've heard of ghosts as repetitions of memory now get ready for ghosts as the absence of memory