FUCKING THANK YOU.
(via memewhore)Source: beeishappy
I believe in fiction and the power of stories because that way we speak in tongues. We are not silenced. All of us, when in deep trauma, find we hesitate, we stammer; there are long pauses in our speech. The thing is stuck. We get our language back through the language of others. We can turn to the poem. We can open the book. Somebody has been there for us and deep-dived the words.
I needed words because unhappy families are conspiracies of silence. The one who breaks the silence is never forgiven. He or she has to learn to forgive him or herself."
Bet and I are trying to figure out the history of our new place. This is the closest we’ve come to digging up any concrete information online. Still, there’s a long span of time unaccounted for since this business moved in 1937. A lot of extra floors too.
We’re just hoping that whatever happened here before us was less children’s hospital and more headquarters for Gatsby-like parties when Minot was in it’s Little Chicago days.
I’m gonna help Foxy Proxie set up her Kindle and perhaps in exchange, she’ll have some information to divulge.
But we’ll keep an eye out for baby ghosts, just in case.
Books I bought at garage sales this weekend, and the notes I found inside them.