˖⭒.⊹☾ stardust ⋆.˚⋆₊ ⊹

the year is 2053. a girl lays on her bed wearing vintage ugg boots. ‘I was born in the wrong generation’ she sighs as she listens to taylor swift and cries over a one direction poster.

i forgot how insane the ending of the little friend is. it is so abrupt and bleak, there’s no closure, just a new terrible understanding for harriet of the world in the transition from childhood to adulthood and already beginning the distillation of the experiences she had during the summer into a narrative where she can process her grief and justify her guilt. even very basic plot elements don’t get resolved such as whether her family will move to nashville with her father, what happened to libby’s will, what’s going on with allison and pem’s relationship…. even danny’s arrest at the end is inconclusive as suggested by edie when she says he’ll probably be out of jail in no time. let alone what happened to robin. the real progression of the book is the slipping of life irretrievably into loss (of loved ones, of innocence, of money and property, of sense and reason) and intractability of actions — the book isn’t a murder mystery, it’s just one long consequence of the death that starts the book. so much has to do with memory and the construction of storytelling often in a negative way

the divine moon 🌙

i love you visible brushstrokes. i love you glue warped scrapbook pages. i love you awkward poems. i love you junk journal with faded receipts. i love you poorly composed journal layout. I love you unintentionally blurry photographs. i love you asymmetrical beading. i love you curling freeform crochet. i love you fingerprints on pottery. i love you reused materials. i love you improvised instruments. i love you mistakes. i love you bravery to make it anyway. i love you creativity that hasn't been wiped clean of every drop of humanity and sanitized and commodified.