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alicelilwolf · 4 months
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 How do I explain? (A poem about Borderline personality disorder)
How do I explain That my emotions are painful That happiness is euphoria That anger is blinded rage That love borders obsession How do I explain That my emotions are my enemy That sadness is suicidal thoughts That pain is an agonizing fire that consumes me That emotions are a hurricane That merged with a tornado and tear away at my body from the inside out And eventually, reach the people around me How do I explain That my actions aren’t always under my control That the only thing I can feel Without wanting to break Is the pain of my own doing How do I explain That everyone leaves when I break Because if you’re in my vicinity And don’t head my warnings to leave me alone I lash out with hurtful words and actions That’ll hurt and break you down Only for me to regret them soon after And take it all out on myself How do I explain That being alone when I don’t want to be Turns into an intense battle A vicious war with myself To not breakdown and lash out at the ones I love And to instead remember to stop and breathe To process reality rationally How do I explain That I can’t do things like everyone else That the simplest task Become a life or death situation That it makes me want to scream How do I explain That my mind is broken And I hope you don’t leave Because the monsters in me are terrible And I’m still learning to control them How do I explain That I fear the love I’m shown Even though I crave it That part of me trusts the people close to me And another part can’t believe a word they tell me Tell me how do I explain The mind that is ruled by different personalities That all feel the pain of a single disorder That’s so stigmatized by the world How do I explain Borderline Personality Disorder
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cannibalcoyote · 8 months
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Rockstar: Your Story(Interview)
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You're a famous rock star being interviewed about the beginning of your career to the current (includes mentions of Mick Ronson, David Bowie, and Mick Jagger):
"Ma'am, can you tell us a little bit about when you first met David Bowie?" The question was so sudden that I could only scrunch my eyebrows at it. I expected David to be brought up sometime, but I didn't expect the first question to be about him.
"Sure, let's see.... I can't remember the exact date, but my dear friend - Mick Ronson - had called me up saying some band was interested in having us as guitar players. I was hesitant because I enjoyed my job as an architect, but something pushed me to go with him; we hopped on the next train to London and did the audition." I explain, tilting my head up at the memories resurfacing. Ronno had been unsure as well, but I'm glad we went.
"We heard it wasn't a pleasant experience? What happened?" They emphasize 'wasn't', clearly looking for some juicy gossip on Bowie, and who am I to disappoint.
"Well, David had accepted Mick but rejected me, and Ronno originally turned down the offer because of that. He didn't even tell me the truth, just grabbed me by the arm and lugged me as well as the guitars out of the building. I knew it hadn't gone well because he had this angry glare in his eyes, which is strange, because if you've ever met him, then you'd know he's rather sweet, and has a very discerning disposition.
I asked what was wrong and he just said that they didn't want us. I knew he was lying, but I didn't want to argue with him. We spent the rest of the time wandering around London sightseeing." I state, folding my hands up in my lap as I look at the interviewer. I don't like looking back to the '70s, a lot of stuff happened, and I fear what they will bring up.
"What happened after that?" The interviewer continues hastily digging, wanting more information. I guess this person isn't going to quit until they get the full story.
"We had stopped by a restaurant and were having lunch. Ronno was saying we should catch the train home after, but we were interrupted by David. I don't know how he found us, I just remember being shocked when he started begging Ronno to join his band. I was also a little confused, and I remember saying, 'I thought you didn't want us?'
To which David responded, 'No, I want him, I just don't want you.' That line had run through my head the following 3 years until I realized how lucky I was David didn't want me." I say the last few sentences in a softer voice, not liking to relive that particular memory.
"He said what?!" The interviewer over exaggerates their movements, getting the audience laughing just as they had hoped. I laugh a little too, David saying something so rude does seem rather uncharacteristic.
"Yah, I was rather astonished as well because the words left him in such a casual way, as if choosing what bread to buy at the market." I say, gently chuckling at the visual of David buying bread in such a critical way.
"What- How, how did Mick react to that." Their eyes widen, the crowd quiets down as they await my answer.
"Oh, he almost punched David! But I grabbed him and pulled him aside, asking why he lied and all that stuff." I respond, remembering the beautiful anger that he so desperately wanted to act on.
"I bet the last thing you wanted was for him to join David's band, right?" The interviewer asks the question humorously.
"That's... Wrong actually. He was vehemently against playing in a band without me, this is mainly due to the fact that ever since we were 12, we've always played together. But, I wanted him to take the opportunity, to show the world his ability, and to be able to be a confident player without me." I explain in a gentle voice, vaguely thinking of how self-conscious he was at the time when it came to him playing guitar.
"You seem to be a really supportive friend, (Y/N)." The tone of their voice turns genuine, the whole conversation losing the humorous quality that had been sustained.
"I try to be, the last thing I want is for people's failings or regrets to be because of me." I smile, my relieved guilt ebbing away as I think of where he and I are now.
"As well as being supportive, you also seem to be fairly protective, at least, that's what I got when Mick told us the story of you traumatizing his high school bully! With that in mind, how did you feel when you learned he was earning next to nothing during the tour?" The beginning of the sentence sent the interviewer and audience into a bit of a laugh, I laugh as well at the memory of scaring off Ronno's bully.
The laughter lightly quiets down to a more serious tone at the end discussion.
"I was appalled! I hated myself for a while because of that, because I pushed him into this situation where he was barely getting paid. Which was the opposite of what I thought would happen, especially after their popularity went through the roof!"I exclaimed, my eyes widening as I relived the shock; the ebbing guilt rushing forward tenfold.
"I heard you went to some extreme measures in order to help him out, what exactly did you do?" The interviewer goes on, the questions digging into lesser known information.
"Well, I joined any band I could, I would try and get hired by restaurants for live music during nights, and then during the day I had a job as a waitress as well as working part time as a lyricist." I explain, just saying that makes me remember how tiring my schedule was back then.
"Now that's a lot to juggle, and I'm sure you have some great stories from those days, but we have a specific story. What happened during one of your many tiring nights of live music?" They ask, this question is sort of a bore to me, one I'm frequently asked to retell.
"I had been band hopping at the time, and was hired for a gig when I didn't have a supportive group, so I improvised. I played my guitar and was singing live, but before that I had recorded the drums and rhythm guitar parts for the songs I was scheduled to play, so when I got up there I just started the recording and played along.
This was for a club where they wanted rock, so it was heavier playing. It was during my guitar solo I noticed someone in the crowd." I divulged, deciding to add in some information I had never shared before.
"Ooh, is this when you met the Rolling Stones?!" Someone screams out, the crowd and interviewer looking in shock before they all burst out laughing at the person's eagerness.
"Yes... but I technically only met Mick Jagger that night. I wasn't a big fan of the Rolling Stones at the time, but I did have an appreciation for their music. I was actually playing one of their songs at the time. Either way, it just surprised me to see him." I continued after we had all calmed down.
"I know you joined their band after that, but can you tell us what exactly went down?" I squint slightly at my interviewer's vernacular before deciding to just answer them.
"I don't think I can tell you all the details, I worry J might get embarrassed! But, I can tell you that he met me backstage after I was done and asked me if I was available tomorrow to meet him at a recording studio. It was the weekend the next day, so I said yes, he wrote down the address and time on a piece of paper, handed it to me, then said goodbye and walked away." I state in a jovial tone, Jagger is one of my favorite people to talk about, because he loves to call immediately after the interview and schedule a meet up. He's strange like that.
"Sounds strange? How did you feel after that?" They looked intrigued, clearly wanting me to divulge the information that I withheld.
"I was shocked. The next day I went and met him and his band mates, then they started playing a song together and asked me to improv. I had never heard the song before, so I just started watching their movements and playing off of that; by the end they asked if I was interested in joining their band, which I clearly said yes to." I exclaim, the interviewer's face looking shocked by what I just said.
"Wow, that all sounds like it went really fast?"
"Oh it was, we had only been playing for 20 minutes when they all stopped and asked me to join. I was going to say no because I needed to make enough money to send to Ronno, but when they mentioned how much I would make weekly I immediately accepted." I reply, chuckling as I remember my astonishment.
"I know after joining the Stones, your career skyrocketed, your solo albums have done well, and you write all your own songs?" They continue, motioning to my newest album sitting on their desk.
"Yes, my solo albums have done surprisingly well, and I write my own songs. I do accept and sing other songs sometimes, but I usually have a story told throughout my albums, and throwing in a random song messes that up." I explained.
"Did you and Mick Ronson keep in contact during this?" They question, looking at me in interest.
"Of course! In the beginning, Ronno and I called every week at the least, and we would send letters sometimes too!" I state ecstatically before calming myself down.
"How did that work? He was touring at the time right?" They ask in a befuddled way.
"Yes he was, but he would tell me the places he would be as well as the dates that he would be there, and I would do the same with him. It was a little complicated, but it was worth it." I reply, my hands waving as I mimic us writing letters.
"Honestly though, what would you send him that couldn't be said over the phone?" They ask after a few moments, laughing as their mind runs.
"Photos, drawings, songs, food-"
"Photos?" I can hear what they're implying, and I can't help but squint my face in disgust. The crowd's laughter magnified at my reaction.
"Stop thinking like that, you all have dirty minds! I would take pictures of me and the band, as well as the places around me. I loved drawing as well, so I would send him some, as well as some songs that I thought he would enjoy playing. Lastly, I knew he was getting food, but I knew it wasn't food he was used to, so I would bake him something, or buy him local snacks and ship them off to the correct address." I explain, describing the different things I would send him.
"Did he ask you to do any of this?"
"No, Ronno was never a complainer, he hated telling people his issues. I was usually the exception, but he prefers telling me in person as compared to over the phone or in a letter. He did enjoy them though, and he would send me songs and pictures as well. I remember him snapping a picture of his drummer scarfing down some cookies I made!" I jubilantly state, smirking as I remember that the picture is still hanging on my fridge.
"You sent him all these lovely things, what did he send you?"
"I never asked for anything more than a letter or a phone call, but he would send me these extravagant songs, asking me how I thought they sounded and if I liked them. He would also send me drawings - he's not really an artist, but he knows I love the little doodles he does randomly, so he started sending them to me." I grin, knowing Ronni will be embarrassed by me sharing this information.
"Was this an easier time in your life or would you consider it one of the more stressful?" Ah, here it comes, the questions I am most dreading.
"The fame and fortune made my financial issues about none, but socially I felt isolated. I had played in popular bands before, but never like this, I was only consistently around my band mates and the people that worked for them. I only really talked with Jagger and Keith, and then Keith randomly started hating me, so I was down to only talking to Jagger." I reply almost subconsciously, my mind wanting to distance itself from these memories.
"What about Ronson? I thought you said you had weekly phone calls and sent letters?" They ask in confusion.
"We did, but about 3 months into that, David started complaining to Ronno that he spent too much time talking to me, and that he was ignoring his band mates for someone he might never see again." The answer in a short tone, clearly still holding resentment for David's decision.
"David said that?" They say in shock.
"Yah, he said it straight to Ronno's face. We obviously didn't stop talking, we kept calling and messaging each other, but it lessened after that to about 1 call every 2 weeks. They became much longer phone calls though, he said that David was limiting his amount of calls, but stated that David couldn't limit his time, so we would end up talking through the entire night!" I smile on glee, our weak form of rebellion still makes my heart warm.
"We've talked about Ronson and his band mates reactions, but how did your bandmates react?" They continue, going down a different avenue.
"Well, everyone basically made fun of me and said we were in love. They told me to stop being so desperate because I was probably annoying Ronno, that remark actually made me start to overthink a lot. I started worrying that I was annoying him, and that he didn't like talking to me anymore. I think that's around the time I began to develop anxiety, I was already depressed, so that just added on to my plate." I responded before realizing I was over sharing on live TV.
"Did you tell Ronson about that? How did he react?" They gratefully kept moving right along, not leaving an awkward silence.
"Well, I never actually told him about that, I think this is the first time he's hearing this." I smile in discomfort, and an uncertain smile on my face.
"Really? You never spoke to him about any of this?" They ask in surprise, slightly taken aback.
"My anxiety had me thinking that saying a single word to him was annoying him, so no, I didn't just start talking about this to him. It was a really dark spot for me, the person to pull me through was Jagger actually. He noticed my extensive isolation, how I stopped eating around others, how I stopped talking. He really pulled through for me, which is probably why I'm still friends with him." I voice solemnly, deciding that I might as well be honest about the situation since there is no going back now.
"I know this is a heavy topic for you, I have some more questions, but if you're uncomfortable we can move on." Wish you had said that earlier, but oh well.
"Ask away, we can just skip the ones I'm uncomfortable with." I smile in response.
"Alright, what did Mick do? Did he just pull you aside and talk to you?"
"No actually, he wrote a song and asked if I would listen to it." I responded.
"What?" Perhaps I should rephrase my vague response.
"That's honestly what he did. But he wrote a song with true meaning, it was rather dark, and it actually made me cry and begin to hyperventilate. We were alone, so he just rushed over and helped calm me down; he didn't ask me any questions until I had completely relaxed." I explained honestly.
"What did he say exactly?" They continue.
"He just apologized, asking if I wanted to talk. I said no at first, but then he asked why I've been distancing myself from him and the band, why all the songs I was writing were either dark or sad.
I told him the truth, that I was depressed, that I felt so intensely alone, and that I could no longer talk to Ronno because I was probably annoying him." An uncomfortable shiver ran up my spine, reliving those memories makes me feel nauseous.
"How did he react to that? I can't really picture him being the best at giving advice and comfort." She smiles in a joking way, attempting to lighten the conversation.
"He was lovely, he hugged me like a giant teddy bear and told me that he would help me through this. We talked for a while, he asked me why I thought I was annoying Ronno, and I told him what the band had said to me." I answer, feeling a small smile appear at the memory of Mick comforting me.
"What did he say to that?"
"He told me that they were a bunch of single idiots who were jealous, and that I shouldn't ruin a meaningful relationship with my best friend by believing the words of immature drug addicts." I respond, barely withholding my laughter as I watch everyone's reaction.
"He said that?!" They nearly yell, everyone laughing at my answer.
"Yes, and the next day he told them all off for belittling me. During our talk he spoke to me about my isolation, I explained that I did that when I was sad or feeling out of place, and he asked what he could do to make me feel like a part of the team. He honestly made me cry a couple of times from how caring he was. Then he started talking about heavier subjects, such as why I wasn't eating during lunch breaks, why I never accepted snacks, and why I was noticeably losing weight." I state, realizing that I was now broaching the subject of my eating disorder.
"That must've been tough." They state seriously.
"It was, I realized at that moment, how much I missed Ronno. I asked Jagger if he wanted me to leave the band since I was such a problem, but he told me to stop being an idiot. The next day I was given a few sheepish apologies from my band mates, and Jagger became a very prominent person in my life from that day on." I explained.
"That's good. So Mick Jagger stepping up to help you must've put him pretty high on your list of friends right?"
"Yes, I only realized how much he was doing for me when he barged into my room during a depressive episode and all but shoved the phone into my hand. I distinctly remember him telling me not to come out until tomorrow morning. When I held the phone up, he had actually dialed up Ronno, who sounded very tired and confused, as well as concerned." I smile, these are the memories that I hold onto dearly.
"Really? How did he know what number to call?"
"I assume he went snooping around my desk, in one of my drawers was a paper with dates, addresses, and numbers. It was one of the sweetest things anybody had ever done for me." The look on my face was genuine, that was honestly one of the sweetest things anyone has done for me.
"I know you two are still good friends, but was there ever the possibility of anything more?" Oh boy, I hate it when they try to talk about this subject.
"I did find him to be attractive if that's what you're asking, but I was never in love with him. He did ask me out on a date and I had said yes, the date was lovely, but we got caught in a crowd of fans and he was like how he normally is. It made me remember how many groupies I'd seen leaving his room, and how many women I've seen smothered over him at all times, and it scared me away from ever allowing myself to love him." I reply sincerely.
"Could there have been something? If you hadn't cut it off?" They continue to push the topic.
"There could've been something eventually - from the despondent look on his face when I said I didn't want a relationship, I think he wanted us to become something more. I don't regret what I did, I like the friendship I have with him, the last thing I wanted to do was ruin it with his promiscuity and my need for loyalty. We've moved on though, I kind of see him as the older brother I never had." I reply, explaining my reasoning and the aftermath.
"Well, since that ship has definitely sunk, what about Ronson? Was there ever anything there?" They just won't give up will they?
"No... Well, there was one time in high school when we thought we should try dating, but that was spurred on by our teenage inability to understand that we loved each other, but not in that way. We realized that that wasn't us when we tried to act like a couple and both noticed that it felt forced. Ever since then we've been best friends." I state.
"Gosh, you're shooting down all of the fan favorites. Are you interested in anyone? Anyone at all?" They sound slightly exasperated, maybe I should throw them a bone.
"Hmmm... Maybe." I smile, a mischievous glint surely in my eye.
"What do you mean maybe? You can't leave the fans hanging like that!" I can tell that I have their genuine attention now.
"Well, ever since David and I have become friends, I've been... slightly interested in him." I say, jumping straight into the deep end.
"..." The silence could almost be described as palpable, it almost makes me want to laugh at how everyone is stunned into silence.
"Well, don't just stare at me." I laugh lightly.
"... I'm sorry, just processing. Does David know this?" They ask in hurried confusion.
"Well, if he's watching like he said he would, then he knows now." I laughed once again, but this time it had an air of uncertainty to it.
"Don't tell me you just confessed over live TV, in an interview no less!" They say in shock, looking at me with wide eyes.
"What if he doesn't reciprocate!" Their response makes me shiver in discomfort at that possibility, but I respond in humor.
"Then I die of embarrassment, cut all ties, and become a hermit!" I state loudly.
"Oh don't do that Y/N! Only healthy reactions are allowed on this show." The crowd laughs lightly at our convo.
I'm about to respond, but my Motorola starts ringing in my bag. I look to the interviewer before quickly digging through my bag and pulling out the phone. I sheepishly glance at it, the audience having fallen silent at the interruption.
"Is it alright if I answer this? It might be important." I state, I know this sounds bad, but it could actually be important since I left my home and animals under the care of my neighbor.
"Of course, but you owe us one more question before you leave then." They respond, holding out their hand.
"Deal!" I agree, shaking their hand quickly.
"Hello, this is Y/N." I state in a professional tone, getting a funny look from the interviewer at my seriousness.
"Y/N darling!" I am thrown off by the happy and familiar tone.
"...David?!" I state in slight confusion, everyone seeming to lean in closer.
"...Yes?" He responds in the same tone, making fun of the way I responded.
"Why are you calling me? I'm in an interview." I explain, swiftly going back to my professional tone.
"Yes well, when someone confesses they are interested in dating you, I thought the first thing one should do is accept." He responds in a joking yet serious tone.
I'm silent for a few moments in surprise, did David just say he wants to date me too?
"Well, don't leave me without a response darling... Will you go on a date with me?" His serious and self assured tone dwindled slightly, I can hear his uncertainty.
"Yes." My response was short, it was rushed and all I could muster with my amount of shock.
"Good, I'll pick you up after the interview, so I'll see you in a few minutes." He stated before hanging up.
I can't contain the overjoyed smile that spreads across my face, most certainly accompanied by a warm blush. The audience snickers as I clumsily put my phone away, then they start laughing as the interviewer stares at me with a smug grin.
"Who was that?" They ask tauntingly.
"Ohhh... no one." I try to brush it off, but I know no one is believing.
"Really! Does this no one happen to be named David Bowie?" They continue.
I avert my eyes in embarrassment, the audience laughing even louder as I sheepishly nod my head.
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bewsworld · 7 months
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“I never thought about the past. I lived in a perpetual present, and I was gradually forgetting my story.”
“ for a very long time, the days went by, each one, just like the day before, then I began to think, and everything changed. Before, nothing happened other than this repetition of identical, gestures, and time seemed to stand still, even if I was vaguely aware that I was growing, and that time was passing.”
~ I Who Have Never Known Men
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vox-anglosphere · 1 year
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Yew Tree Farm was once owned by Beatrix Potter who rescued the Lake District from developers with the royalties from her many books
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nickysfacts · 10 months
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All racism has ever done is slow down the creation of new beauty💜
🇺🇸👩🏾‍🦱📖
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belovedapollo · 8 months
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— Anaïs Nin
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thealmostfamouswriter · 2 months
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Imagination and Writing
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I will always advocate that you can be a writer if you apply effort, time, and commitment. Writing takes heart and most importantly, imagination.
I always got into trouble for daydreaming. I was the child that told elaborate pretend stories and boy, was I punished for it. I don’t regret being that kid because my world is more fun than reality sometimes.
“But what if my story is unrealistic and not liked? I’m not confident because people won’t think my stories would be believable.”
Too many times I’ve been told this by friends and acquaintances when they ask me how I create stories. My reply is always: “that’s the idea of writing a fiction book, it’s all make believe.”
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Great writers have a knack of sending readers into a world of make believe, and as a writer, there’s nothing more satisfying than to be amongst millions of writers that can do that. Truth be told, I have never been trained to write, nor do I have a degree in writing; I’m self taught by nonstop writing and comparing my work to other authors. I recruit friends, those who are avid readers and trusted critics, to read certain pages of my manuscript, and believe you me, that’s been helpful.
I encourage anyone with a colorful imagination to write down what you’re thinking and I promise you’ll be amazed. The more you write, it’ll become apparent to how therapeutic it is. Writing a book is a lengthy process; depending on how committed you are, it may take you six months to a year, and maybe longer. In the end, you’ll be consumed with pride that you’ve written your first book. Afterwards, you’ll want to write another, and then another, and so on.
Imagination is the best tool for writing. Movie producers, directors, and screenwriters work hard to get their visions onto the silver screen. Authors work hard to get their visions published for avid readers to enjoy. If an author should be fortunate, he or she will see their visions come to life in theaters. You will never know the potential of your story until you write one.
Pictures: Vecteesy, Getty Images, Nickelodeon
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fauxunraveling · 5 months
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posted the fig tree analogy on my main blog that’s how obsessed i am with it
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a-block-head · 1 year
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You know who’s great? Cornelia Funke
1) she used to be a social worker that helped kids from deprived backgrounds
2) she wrote several fictional series about children confronting and overcoming adversity in several ways
3) She worked with the UN during their “United Nations Decade on Biodiversity” 
4) she doesn’t use her fame and influence to platform ideologies and people that attack marginalized groups 
Seriously, why don’t people talk more about her? 
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sensitivesiren · 4 months
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Oh. Why is writing different from my other hobbies? Why can I engage in it more easily than others sometimes? Especially if I'm feeling out of control and overwhelmed? That's easy. When I'm writing, my brain is completely occupied in another world, I can lose hours to it, I am completely engaged in my creative zone and none of my real-world problems can touch me.
My other beloved hobbies, physical hobbies, like arts and crafts allow my brain the space to wander into dangerous territory where I can think about all of the things that my brain is trying to run from.
It's an entirely different form of escapism where I'm in complete control and I'm writing the kind of story that I want to read. A world I can build where I control the rules. My characters are depending on me, I'm needed there. I can make everything beautiful there, I can process healing there, I can express grief there, I can unload my exhaustion, my frustration, my hopes, my desires, and my endless need to create there.
I've always lived in my own world, and as I've grown up I've realized just how important it is for some of us to nurture our creativity and imagination as a coping mechanism. I write because I need it. I need to feel like there's more, and I have the ability to do something about it.
That's why it's different. To me.
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womeninfictionandirl · 2 months
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Octavia Butler by Allison Adams
Octavia Butler (1947 – 2006) was an African American science fiction author who mostly wrote about future societies and superhuman powers. She was awarded the esteemed Nebula and Hugo Awards, and was the first science fiction writer (of any race or gender) to be awarded a MacArthur “Genius Grant”. Her books are noteworthy for their unique mix of science fiction, mysticism, mythology and African American spiritualism, as well as placing young Black women and girls as the protagonists.
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frenchnewwaves · 7 days
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Joan Didion's Packing List:
TO PACK AND WEAR: 2 skirts 2 jerseys or leotards 1 pullover sweater 2 pair shoes stockings bra nightgown, robe, slippers cigarettes bourbon bag with: shampoo toothbrush and paste Basis soap, razor deodorant aspirin prescriptions Tampax face cream powder baby oil
TO CARRY: mohair throw typewriter 2 legal pads and pens files house key
“This is a list which was taped inside my closet door in Hollywood during those years when I was reporting more or less steadily. The list enabled me to pack, without thinking, for any piece I was likely to do. Notice the deliberate anonymity of costume: in a skirt, a leotard, and stockings, I could pass on either side of the culture. Notice the mohair throw for trunk-line flights (i.e. no blankets) and for the motel room in which the air conditioning could not be turned off. Notice the bourbon for the same motel room. Notice the typewriter for the airport, coming home: the idea was to turn in the Hertz car, check in, find an empty bench, and start typing the day’s notes.”
—Joan Didion, “The White Album” (1979)
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motherofblurbs · 1 month
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~ i want to feel everything with you
another piece of my book, my heart, my baby.
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kaijukiki · 6 months
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Modern vampire storytelling at its finest. Losing author, Anne Rice, recently was a huge blow to the supernatural writing community and to the female writing community. Instead of reviewing this book I’d like those reading this to take a moment of silence for what Anne Rice imaginative storytelling of her stylish, elegant, and unique vampire works and what she’s done for vampires in pop culture as we know it
Thank you
“Goodnight sweet prince, may flights of devils wing you to your rest.”-Anne Rice
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nickysfacts · 6 months
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Pagu helped to lead Brasil into the Modern age!
📖🇧🇷📚
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the-land-of-women · 11 months
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