Miss MacIntosh, My Darling discussion

Reading Miss MacIntosh > 8 -- We had passed through cloud-bursts... (158)

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message 1: by Nathan "N.R." (new)

Nathan "N.R." Gaddis (nathannrgaddis) | 95 comments Chapter 8 page 158

message 2: by Ce Ce (new)

Ce Ce (cecebe) | 104 comments Sunday has become my Miss Mac reading day. Chapter 6 was misted gray. Chapter 7 slate. Chapter 8 swirling black smoke.

Billie Holiday's "Gloomy Sunday" echoed endlessly in my mind. Beautiful. Nuanced. Haunting. Sad. Suicidal.


Sunday is gloomy,
My hours are slumberless
Dearest the shadows
I live with are numberless
Little white flowers
Will never awaken you
Not where the black coach of
Sorrow has taken you
Angels have no thought
Of ever returning you
Would they be angry
If I thought of joining you?

Gloomy Sunday

Gloomy is Sunday,
With shadows I spend it all
My heart and I
Have decided to end it all
Soon there'll be candles
And prayers that are said I know
Let them not weep
Let them know that I'm glad to go
Death is no dream
For in death I'm caressin' you
With the last breath of my soul
I'll be blessin' you

Gloomy Sunday

Dreaming, I was only dreaming
I wake and I find you asleep
In the deep of my heart, dear
Darling I hope
That my dream never haunted you
My heart is tellin' you
How much I wanted you
Gloomy Sunday

message 3: by Jonathan (new)

Jonathan (nathandjoe) | 44 comments abortions - hooks pulling slippery leviathans from the deep womb-waters

prostitution, and the wearing down of life, the haggard-making days

and gossip and gossip and gossip echoing back and forth and back and forth within the bus, within the mind

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