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update from sparkleup

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Madison Scott-Clary 2022-02-22 21:25:06 -08:00
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diary/2021-12-30.md
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@ -15,7 +15,7 @@ I wish I could see your triumph. Is that self-sacrificing of me? I really don't
I wish I could see your triumph. It's my goal to succeed, to prevail, to come out the other side, to make it through, to win. It's my goal to come away with my own triumph, but always, always there is that niggling little doubt, that secret desire to lose, to be beaten in a fair fight and have it proven to my face that at least someone could bring me low and understand that *hey, at least she tried, right?*
I wish I could see your triumph. I wish I could see elation in your eyes. I wish I could see you laugh. I wish I could see just how it looks for you to set aside that way you devote every erg of energy to struggle and give me one of those full on, deep-throated belly laughs that I know we all hide somewhere in our bodies.
I wish I could see your triumph. I wish I could see elation in your eyes. I wish I could see you laugh. I wish I could see just how it looks for you to set aside that way you devote every erg of energy to struggle and give me one of those full on, deep-down belly laughs that I know we all hide somewhere in our bodies.
I wish I could see your triumph, and I wish that, should you see mine, you understand just how much love goes into our struggle, just how much need and desire I hold for you.
@ -25,7 +25,7 @@ Every now and then I catch a taste of Rilke, hidden around some corner of my mou
He saw someone do that, I think I remember the story went. He was walking and saw someone face the sea, throw their arms wide, cry out to sea foam or ice or some unseen rank of angels, and...well, I don't remember if *he* heard them, necessarily, but that's how it went, right? Who, though I cry, would hear me among the ranks of angels, and then hundreds of lines later, ten elegies.
So whenever I get that awkward-shaped piece of grit between my mouth --- *every angel is terrifying* --- I think of that scene. I think of the way we elevate the unknown to some higher place that ourselves. I think of the patterns we hunt for in the sea foam, in the waves that can take us under or bash us senseless against some barnacled rock. I think about the crush of worlds implied in the calving of an iceberg and how easily that could destroy. I think about that rank of angels who, holding me to their breast, could so easily annihilate?
So whenever I get that awkward-shaped piece of grit between my teeth --- *every angel is terrifying* --- I think of that scene. I think of the way we elevate the unknown to some higher place that ourselves. I think of the patterns we hunt for in the sea foam, in the waves that can take us under or bash us senseless against some barnacled rock. I think about the crush of worlds implied in the calving of an iceberg and how easily that could destroy. I think about that rank of angels who, holding me to their breast, could so easily annihilate.
Do they laugh, the sea foam, the ice, the angels?
@ -55,6 +55,7 @@ I specifically ordered it from Mishu. I have almost never gotten anything from t
I totally lucked out with this one, though. It's weird, because the sleeves are way too long on me, they go down past my hands. The zipper is way too short in that it comes down to a bit past my belly button, but that the hoodie still has non-zippered fabric beneath that keeps it from being some sort of weird crop-top-hoodie.
It was just kind of luck of the draw, given the other things I got in that order (two quarter-capes and a black dress) which all *almost* fit but not quite.
> Describe in terms of how it looks/feels/smells/sounds. Imperfections? Tags?