jue @beeznjuj - Tumblr Blog

2026 reading: 3/12

January - Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton ☒ 3.7/5 February - The Shining by Stephen King ☒ 2.1/5 March - Where the Crawdads sing by Delia Owens ☒ 3.4/5 April - The Girls by Emma Cline ☒ 1000/5 May - Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier ☒ 4.3/5 June - Marlena ☐

‘jesse do you love God?’

‘yes, sometimes’

‘why only sometimes?’

‘because i don’t know him that well’

‘maybe you will know him better when you are older’

*sighs ‘maybe’.

beeznjuj

there’s something going on inside of me. it all over the surface of my body, only just below the skin. my stomach is burning.

how can any of this be real.

it’s jesus or xanax.

beeznjuj

months pass. i stand at the foot of the same issues.

i know i don’t have the answers but i never acted like i did either.

The Girls by Emma Cline {5/5} Book review.

This was my April read for one book a month! I really enjoyed it. I don't feel I have as much to say about it as I have in past reviews - I think because i read it all in one go a few weeks ago without making any notes.

The book follows Evie, a 14 year old girl as she navigates her summer. She meets members of a cult and falls into the cult - sort of becoming a member.

Although I did really enjoy the plot of the book I think the language used by the author paired with the perspective that Evie gives on everything she lives through, is what really captured me. There were many moments during reading where I felt very similar to Evie - that her perspective was similar to what mine would be. Many of her habits routines mirrored mine when I was of that age. The author articulated the awkward and desperate stage that Evie experiences with Connie very well. Her obsession with Suzanne, the admiration of an older cooler girl - then the subsequent love for Suzanne. idk i really liked it.... Quotes:

“When I was that age, I was uncertain of how to move, whether I was walking too fast, whether others could see the discomfort and stiffness in me. As if everyone were constantly gauging my performance and finding it lacking.”

“That's how badly people wanted it - to know that their lives had happened, that the person they once had been still existed inside of them.”

"Girls are the only ones who can really give each other close attention, the kind we equate with being loved. They noticed what we want noticed."

“For a moment, I tried to see myself through the eyes of the girl with the black hair, or even the boy in the cowboy hat, studying my features for a vibration under the skin. The effort was visible in my face, and I felt ashamed. No wonder the boy had seemed disgusted: He must have seen the longing in me. Seen how my face was blatant with need, like an orphan's empty dish. And that was the difference between me and the black-haired girl- her face answered all it's own questions.”

“At that age I looked at women with brutal and emotionless judgement. Assessing the slope of their breasts, imagining how they would look in very crude positions.”

“I remember noticing for the first time how loud she was, her voice hard with silly aggressiveness. Connie with her whines and feints, the grating laugh that sounded, and was, practiced. A space opened up between us as soon as I started to notice these things, to catalog her shortcomings the way a boy would. I regret how ungenerous I was. As if by putting distance between us, I could cure myself of the same disease.”

“No one had ever looked at me before Suzanne, not really, so she became my definition. Her gaze softening my centre so easily that even photographs of her seemed aimed at me, ignited with private meaning.”

“I took her beauty personally.”

“So much of desire, at that age, was a willful act. Trying so hard to slur the rough, disappointing edges of boys into the shape of someone we could love.” this doesn't feel very in depth but oh well.

remi bond & keni titus summer, the summer i started realising something was very wrong. everything's prettier in the rear view. even you. im getting sick my throat is so sore i need more tea to sip.

i need to be met where i am at. how can i tell you that i don’t see all my thoughts and feelings as facts. i need concrete. i need something solid. the more i want something the more i can trick myself into seeing it. it’s not there. my mum thinks it is.

i’ve spent many evenings of my life sat in the lounge late at night, pouring my heart out to my mum. she wakes up the next morning and prays for me with dad.

i’m so sure until

the sound of synthetic waterproof fabric in the wind

i’ll try not to think about you in june. come december come the storm.

i do want to know God. i do really. i feel so small. 6 foot and sturdy. but i’m trembling and helpless. i can’t help myself. i feel satisfyingly self sufficient until it all gets stripped back down. and then i feel i need more. what matters to me most?

you said we’d never be the same and then you died.

you keep telling me the ending is coming but then we stay.

THE HUDSONNNN

i just got charged £50 on a subscription to some pdf compressor thing i didn’t even mean to subscribe to :(.

do you look away now? this might be the end of us. you told me you hate her, but i know i’m worse. if i stop biting my tongue, then we will be done for.

i shut God out when i sought the comfort of the pills that gave me control over seeking him.

i think it might be hard to go back to putting my trust in someone i cant see, feel or even know.

there is something spiritual about the pain of not being in control of my own body.

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