DB Graves > Recent Status Updates

43: 'ate them to secure the property'
45: Byron bought the house for me.

hm

...[S]o, naturally, I ate them, and then the matter was quite solved.

Among the other things
it could be named
this too is love, the kind
I'm most familiar with--
the weight I claim
I cannot bear and do,
and do.

I really wanted it to be mom to the rescue.

...I think of all the bones with no one to claim them, all the bodies that were thrown into a pit somewhere on the outskirts of the capital, beneath the cleaned up city, disintegrating, becoming foundation. I realize, then, that those who died may have been unclaimed, their remains abandoned of necessity, but never, never, were they unloved.

Grief resides in the marrow. This, I know. It's what weighs us down and pains us as we grow old: the grief in the marrow.

296:Some of us danced, but our movements were dirges...
All that was man-made fell, including time, buckled into the sky with nightfall.

299: We are particles in motion. This is why the gods can descend into us. My mother's gods. Lou's gods. We must find our way back to them. No more rosaries and earthenware statues, no more churches that fall down around our ears.

Ruins had meaning: they revealed time like nothing else could, outlived bodies, love stories, everything. They should stand.

...

I did it for the satisfaction of doing something, of imagining a better, less hostile future, where a God might still exist to watch over us.

Don't tell someone how anything works, and then be mad at them for not knowing how anything works.

Getting a lot of Shadowhunters and Divergent vibes.
And is there any girl around who doesn't have a jealous crush on Maddox? (sp??)

Imagine if every single Haitian who lost someone could get their hands on some of that money, decide what they needed for themselves, their family? You could create a healthy, working middle-class, and, still, there would be millions amassing in a treasure trove behind them. But, of course, they won't allow that to happen.

...[S]etting themselves on fire to send smoke signals... But we all look away unless it's us, or someone we love, going up in flames. You don't know what collective you belong to until your own house is on fire.

...
it is their brokenness
you long to touch, the parts
they left behind or lost
as they learned too soon
too many years ago
what it took and took
to be a man.

Because we are mostly
made of water and water
calls to water
like the ocean to the river,
the river to the stream,
there was a time when
children fell into wells
...
and water calls to water
through centuries of reason

Or he'd have been racing his speedboat
at Duncaren Dam, the waves
lifting him and banging him down,
a violence he could understand,
that same dumb force raging inside him.

but there was too little room
for life without end,
forever and ever,
on that thin spit of earth
under that huge prairie sky.

That nervous but excited feeling to be picking up an old book and hoping it's as good now as before.

Second guess correct, and I guess we are done now.

Prediction: Catherine Parr's Katryna's baby with Seymouraur is actually Elizabeth's Bethany's baby and Cat Ashley Corliss Ashton and a few others knew this and conspired to keep it a secret so Bethany could become the Virgin Queen by either killing the baby, or Katryna and the baby. Now Robin "Black Fingers" is involved with silencing them. Unless the stabbing is a red herring.

This 'anyfolk' 'everyfolk' thing is killing me. The verbs look wrong. I want it to go with 'folk', but it's 'everyone'.
Everyone says. Folk say. Everyfolk says.
I hate reading it. Every time.
I really wanted to like this book but it's not going well. Commit to the Elizabethan era or commit to the Elizabethan-inspired setting with enough real change to be your own.
Anglish.🙄

A lot of repetition, especially of which foods for which things. The lamb's head scene was meant to be shocking, we haven't forgotten.

The words rub up against the shame but don't much ease it.

A little weird that this is basically the Elizabethan era and the Tudors but with slight name changes. (Mary to Maris, Elizabeth to Bethany.) Hoping to get more into the feel of the world.

[B]ut I had rebirthed myself. I was my own mother.