how i be sleeping at night knowing that neil never died and him and todd went to nyu together where neil majored in acting and todd majored in english and they both minored in writing and then todd got his mfa at fordham while neil continued to act in new york and then once they were really ready to settle down they moved to connecticut so todd could teach at yale and neil did freelance dramaturgy and they would take the train to new york one weekend a month: đ´đ´đ´
you usually never remembered your dreams; you had bursts of them each time you moved to a new place, as if your brain is shaken loose.it was your only constant. for you itâs always been about the residue they left behind rather than their contents, a black charcoal color that stained your insides. they were less dreams and more like nightmares, except you never woke up, never got the catharsis of a scream or a sharp inhale. you knew better than to make a noise in the house where your father slept.
you were in vegas when you got your only recurring dream. it was strange not only because you remembered it but because it was hard to classify. it wasnât a nightmare yet it wasnât a dream, either; every night you welcomed it as if you didnât know how it ended. you were always on the surface of sleep, tiptoeing the line between consciousness and deep slumber. it was a room with only your bed and a window. the day was blank, always. not even a cloud in the sky, like you and the room were the only thing that existed. somehow you were empty of all of your unhappiness and felt warm and rested. safe.Â
until a violent noise woke you up, coming from the window. your eyes opened in confusion, you rose sleepily and stayed there, staring at your silhouette on the wall across until your thoughts caught up with you and you looked towards the window at the commotion.Â
it was a bird. you never knew what type but you knew it was the same one. your bones cracked and adjusted as you moved towards the window to open it, the latch creaked as you unlocked it and flinch at the noise. the bird sputtered into the room with stuttered movements, its cries soft. you stared at it, transfixed. it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. until you realized it was bleeding. how long had it been banging against the glass? oh god, you realized. you didnât know. you panicked. your hands shook as you tried to decide what to do. a minute passed, two, until you got the courage to scoop it up in your hands. you were scared to crush it, for your hands had never known softness, had never felt a tenderness like this. the weight of love towards another living thing. but you were always too late; as soon as you finished that thought, its heart came to a steady stop. you held it up to your chest, as if your heart could have passed on just a little bit of its life. but it never revived. and you were left in the room, the only other life you had ever known extinguished. a single tear fell from your cheek. then, you woke up. and it began again.Â
the nightmare dream stopped when you got to know the only other neighbor in the sea of identical houses. you didnât notice, you were so happy and desperate for companionship. completely enraptured in this boyâs orbit.Â
he experienced nightmares, like you, except he got the luxury of catharsis. his cry reminded you of another sound, and thatâs when you remembered. the bird. instinctively you wrapped your hands around him, holding him. touching him like no one else had ever touched you. with care. you felt his heartbeat quicken against your chest for a second, and then his breathing slowed to the rhythm of sleep once again.
except there was something about his heartbeat, like the fluttering of wings. you fell asleep with a slight smile on your face. because it hadnât been too late after all. the bird lived! you felt like you had finally given it its salvation, something that youâd never have. i must do everything i can to keep this bird alive, you thought, right before you fell asleep.Â
you held his outgrown hair back when he vomited (if you were lucky enough to make it to the toilet). you dragged him off the road when heâd lay in the middle of it, praying for a car to come. but like all of his prayers, it went unanswered. when heâd open his eyes, for a split second they would transform into headlights. and your heart, you swore, stopped in that same second. you held him as he thrashed, in a frenzy to find the adequate punishment for himself. you held him until he stopped, as he realized for the millionth time that there was no punishment that would satisfy him, even death.Â
years later, this boy, in his drunken haze, showed you a painting. you blinked, startled. itâs the same one from your dreams. the goldfinch, the boy calls it, with blind admiration, as if he were talking about a god. without thinking you took it from him. like you knew he would leave you. a bird had to fly away sometime, didnât it? you repeated this to yourself but it brought little comfort.Â
it would be the only thing youâd have left of him. youâd spend hours cradling it, the same way you cradled the boy. when he left, you felt like you had failed. you were supposed to keep him safe! who knows where he is! but you never let that train of thought go further than that, you didnât dare to. it would derail, crash and burn within seconds. youâd keep the painting safe. it was the only thing you could do.Â
but you couldnât do even that in the end. the bird, it felt like the only holy thing in your life. the only thing youâd cherished. itâs the painting, you say to yourself. itâs the painting iâm talking about. you could lie to everyone but yourself. but like anything good in your life, it either left or you found a reason to give it up. good wasnât a word meant for you. youâd spent your life building your own definition, one better suited for you. and for him, too. Â
even though you didnât dare to think of his name, you felt the smoldering of his anger, he had probably found the civics book in place of the painting. and this is what kept you from coming back to him. every time your thoughts wandered too close to him, you burned. any longer and you would be engulfed in him. you wouldnât know where you started and he began.Â
so you decided to stay in the periphery of his life, instead. looked up at his bedroom window under the streetlight. sat in the car and stared at the antique shop where he worked, that before he used to talk about it like it was a myth, a fantastical place in a story. you thought it would hurt too much, but you were bursting with relief. knowing he was on the other side was better than thinking about him; in your mind he would always be uncertain. in your mind, he would always take the form of a corpse. but you found comfort in the pulse within the shop.Â
you spent hours there, preparing something to say in case he saw you, in case you heard his footsteps, each like a bomb ticking down, coming towards the car. it was the only thing youâd ever rehearsed.Â
when he finally saw you, in the bar weeks later, all of those lines youâd rehearsed dissolve on your tongue. suddenly youâre an actor, a puppet. looking at him in the eyes was like staring straight into the spotlight. in that moment you thought only one thing. a name. theo. an inhale after years underwater. and then, he talked; and the heat of the anger you expected is not scorching but warm as a caress. you leaned into it. and thatâs when you heard it. the violent fluttering of wings inside his ribcage. desperate to escape and fly into your hands. i took conversational russian in college, he said to you. a confession. because of you. it made me think of you. and it felt so real you could almost see it; his chest opening, blooming like a flower, exuding a beam of light, light identical to the one in your dreams. and the goldfinch coming to rest in your hands. for a second, youâre so mesmerized you forgot that youâd betrayed him. youâd do anything to keep it safely in your hands, to keep it from flying away. and with a jolt you realized; it didnât want to fly away, and it never would again.Â
theo really went on an extensive rant about borisâ girlfriend and how their bond is deeper, left his engagement party to run off with boris, and most notably says he loves him. i know what you are.
...amen.
going from aapi heritage month to pride month i stay winning happy pride month
i feel like we as a society donât talk about the scene in the goldfinch where theo and boris were hurt in amsterdam enough. mainly how theos only thought after he killed a man and lost his prized possession seconds after attaining it again is boris.
their dynamic is so interesting to me. the dependency they have on each other runs deep and is so prevalent.
hi this post makes me feel too many things
Theo :(
The Goldfinch dir. John Crowley // The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt // Jolene by Ray LaMontagne // Stephen Colbert on grief // The Only Thing by Sufjan Stevens // The Fellowship of the Ring by Tolkien // The Comfort of A Laugh Track by Roar // The Burning Hill by Mitski // Because Dreaming Costs Money, My Dear by Mitski // Andrew Garfield about grief // Rock Me to Sleep by Elizabeth Akers Allen
just imagine. you're 15 you're high of your ass on god knows what your mom died in a terrorist attack you're suffering from trauma your dad just died, he never loved you, and you're running away and you're in love with your bestfriend and he kisses you and you know he wont come with you.
JUST FUCKING IMAGINE
god i hope no one saw my last posts i lost my shit bc of a simple mistake đ i love overreacting yummy
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Abolish prison labor in the US (petition)
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Justice for Breonna Taylor - A black woman, an award winning EMT who was killed by police in her home after an illegal unnanounced drug raid. They went to the WRONG HOUSE. (petition)
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Justice for Belly Mujinga - A black woman who was attacked while she had COVID-19 which likely lead to her death.(petition)
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Disbarment of George E. Barnhill - The man who decided to sit on the case of Ahmaud Arbery. (petition)
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Correcting a wrongful conviction against Kyjuanzi Harris - A black man who was arrested without cause. He has been in prison for 9 years now. (petition)
Justice for Darrius Stewart - A black man who was killed by a cop for a mistaken identity. (petition)
Reopen Kendrick Johnsons case - A black man who was killed by a man through a jealous fight over a girl. The autopsy revealed that his death was not accidental, the man admits to murder, yet the case is closed. (petition)
Raise the degree - remove bail for Derek Chauvin, the man who killed George Floyd (petition)
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I need to share this right now so I can eat but i will add more later! I DONâT care if its not ACNH. If this bothers you, unfollow me. I couldnât care less. It bothers me how little I see donation and petition links on here, i have a good amount of followers on here, so see this. sign them.
Please sign them ALL. It really is NOT that hard. And share so others will do the same.
they/he shiloh comeback woah also i was shilohtheravendorÂ
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