I found this in Half Price Books a few weeks ago, and I felt so upset when I saw it. I thumbed through it and felt, I should have found this when I was a teen, it's not fair-- just not fair-- and I had the feeling Molly has when she sees the Unicorn, "How dare you come to me now? When I am this?" but the unicorn says, "I am here now," in the half-startled, half-cold way that is hers.
I bought the book, and I have been reading it and doing the work as time allowed, and I will share some of it when I can.
In the afternoons, I usually take my laptop or a book to the bed and study, and a doll for company. Gertrude is sitting on my bed desk. I got her in 2015 from the Korean doll company Dollmore. She's a "Flocke" sculpt. Willow is sitting with my headphones. She's made by the Chinese company Angel of Dream. I got her in 2013. She's a "Qing" sculpt.
Two older entries I edited tonight re-posted today's date. However, the original month/year is still visible in the permalink. Looking back on the past often makes me cringe, especially when I remember my own behavior. However, re-reading these entries makes me feel the past is accessible in the sense that I am still holding on to many of the same dreams and desires. This week, for comps, I read two early gothics, James Hogg's The Private Memoir and Confessions of a Justified Sinner , and Charles Brockden Brown's Edgar Huntly; or, a Sleep-Walker , which were very much along the lines of the books that absorbed me from 2005-2007, most of which I read on my Treo from Project Gutenberg. Looking back upon my interests and desires of that time sustains me now, when I have to tap into my reserves every day to keep reading.