Hecrtgolden - YOU'RE SO GOLDEN!

Little Women (2019) dir. Greta Gerwig

Chuck Palahniuk, Invisible Monsters

Sharp Objects — Fix

Sammy is almost always the first to throw the punch. It’s a fight or flight instilled in him - gifted even, by his father. And when his anxiety levels are already high, so are the rest of his emotions. He’s barely slept, bags under his eyes from a four-day stand-off with his dad, so when a couple of older men that used to tease him in school make a snide comment about his mother, he’s the first to throw the punch. Every ounce of frustration that has built up goes straight to his fists as he swings, ‘‘ Fuckin’ say it again ! ’’ He’s spitting like some feral animal, barely registering the hands that grab him from behind and pull him away ‘‘ No - let me fuckin’ at ‘em, I can take them. ’’ the heel of his hands press into his eyes as he tries to bring himself back down. ‘‘ they’re always fuckin’ pickin’ at me, that group of fucking pratts are. They called the fuckin’ cops on my brother last week as well ! ’’

“Madness as a defense against terror. Madness as a defense against grief.”

— Susan Sontag, from As Consciousness Is Harnessed to Flesh: Journals and Notebooks 1964-1980

‘‘ This ’’ she says quietly, trailing her finger across the ceiling ‘‘ this is where the split should be. And here, on this side - the evening sun. Lilacs and baby pinks. Yellow trickling through. and this side - this would be midnight rain. Navy’s, blacks, hundreds of tiny fibre optic lights for stars. Brooding clouds and tiny raindrops. ” A sigh escapes her lips as she jumps down from the ladder. “ That’s just how I would decorate it, if I was you. ”

@bashscmmers

me rollerblading into my therapist’s office this week with sunglasses and a piña colada: maurice, you’re not gonna fucking believe this,

Sammy gets to work early most days, which is surprising given his famously shitty time-keeping habits when it comes to his personal life. Today, however, he’s running late. Not late late, he’s still got time to spare before his shift actually starts - but only 20 minutes or so rather than the usual hour he gives himself to lounge behind the bar. The reason is the shining new black eyes he’s sporting as he walks in. ‘‘ just me ’’ he mumbles - not feeling as talkative or irritating as usual. ‘‘ we got any ice packs back there ? ’’

open ! where: local bar 

it’s a little insane that the local bar opens as early as it does, nevertheless, benjy is there if not a little just… hungover, not from alcohol itself but just sheer tiredness that feels just about as painful as a hangover. believe it or not, the local bartender didn’t partake in much drinking, but shit at home was not going great, he had a whopping medical bill to pay for his dad’s home healthcare worker and he looked at their accounts last night and it wasn’t going all too great on top of their kitchen sink just absolutely breaking, spraying water everywhere. shit piled up, and by the time he opened the doors and checked restock and turned on the goddamn television a murder happened over night. or early day. either way, it was all over the television and he leaned back against the bar to look up at the screen and said, “shit,” before turning to face the customer. “well that’s cheery,” he mumbles underneath his breath, just what this town needed really. “what can i get for you?”