such a bummer! @jrbev - Tumblr Blog

Found note of great wisdom

from stoppingoffplace blogspot

Tony Tost

#i don't know how to talk about my biological father so i am going to describe the lake: it's blue with swans #!!!!!!!!!!!!!#*moodboard.#*words.

pulledrounder

Richard Siken, Boot Theory // Frank Bidart, The War of Vaslav Nijinsky // astralcorbozo on TikTok // Mary Herbert, A Long Time in the Desert // Dan Deacon, When I Was Done Dying

SCREAM 2, 1997 — directed by Wes Craven

#meaghan youre so right for saying this is bev im losing my mind how is this not a scene from bev #*moodboard.#*body language.

somethingdiabolical

Can I get to know you

I don’t recommend it

#*words.#*moodboard.#Ha!

transformsa-deactivated20230208

“this is serious, bev.” she’s selling it well: it sounds serious. she certainly looks serious about it, which isn’t unimpressive: see, she’s got a paper party hat in one hand, a lightly burned funfetti cupcake in the other. bonnie shrugs. “i’m not used to that oven.” (yeah, it like, works.) “how old are you? oh, there’s candles; i’ve got candles. upstairs. not a bunch, but the ones with numbers on them? i just bought a box like, two weeks ago.” she holds out her hands instead of moving closer, offering up the meager gift. wincing at the cupcake. “you don’t have to eat that.” she’s a lot of things, but she isn’t unreasonable. usually. “but you do have to wear the hat.” / @jrbev

jrbev

Bonnie is being so serious with her sincerity right now. But she’s wearing a striped birthday party hat and Bev is trying not to laugh.

“I just think there might be a sound reason as to why dunce caps and birthday hats share a similar conical form. And if form follows function, as they say, then, you know.”

He does want to eat that cupcake, though. He takes it. Said very fast, so he can get to the eating:

“Either stupidity is celebrated or life itself is ridicule.”

He takes an excessively large bite of the cupcake. To him, it is great. It could be sprinkled with salt instead of, you know, sprinkles and he’d think it was good because Bonnie made it for him. He gives her a thumbs up, still chewing.

#ic #transforms #your honor i love them so much

transforms:

“That’s too bad,” she says, a little mournfully, “whenever I gotta name something I start thinking about when I was a kid.” Not mournfully, that. “My favorite doll was this awful little clown. Bastian. After, like, the kid in Neverending Story. But I thought I’d ask. Because I think most people wouldn’t want to be named after a clown doll. And I guess that’s sensible.”

“I mean, uh, any name is better than what I got now, you know.” Air pushes out of Bev’s nose like a pathetic deflated balloon. It is a useless attempt at a laugh. “Uh. And, not to put too fine a point on it, Bonnie, but, like, you could call me something like Little Bummer Boy,” (he thinks: like the world’s saddest knockoff holiday song: pa rum bum bum bum) “—and I’d happily reply. Sooo. Yeah. Whatever feels right. Or not right, right. Since we’re not being ourselves.” He knows this whole charade is meant to be a way for him to momentarily escape himself and his past, but she talks about her favorite doll and a movie she would watch as a child and he finds himself wishing, quite earnestly, he knew Bonnie when they were both kids.

#ic #transforms #transforms. 001

adrasteiax

Mary Oliver, from Dogfish in “Dream Work”

#*moodboard.#*words.#*bev and bonnie.

coffeepeople

There is an unbearable sadness in me, but it’s chill. I’m totally chill.

#*moodboard.#*words.

solichor

@jrbev.

‘ are you – okay? ’ (are you okay? has got to be the silliest question to ask someone, right? by the time you’ve been pushed to vocalized concern, isn’t it clear that they are not, in fact, okay? shouldn’t you be asking the why’s, the what’s?) summer sinks into a crouch at a careful distance, forearms against her thighs and hands loose between her knees.

‘ do you need some water? ’

jrbev

Bev is slumped on the ground leaning against a park bench. He sniffs heavily and rubs his eyes with his knuckles, wiping away his tears and then the blood dripping from his nose. What horrific priorities. Hide the tears before the blood. As though some innate part of him believes sadness is more despicable than violence. He doesn’t think that. He doesn’t think like that. He doesn’t. Sadness is normal, it’s healthy. Why did he wipe his tears first? He clenches his jaw hard enough it hurts his molars. Then he clenches harder. Like he’s encaging himself. Like his row of teeth are the borderline between the self and the world and he’s stuck in himself and that’s for the best.

“I’m fine. Please don’t—” He holds a hand up, palm to them, as if to barricade himself. “Please don’t touch me. Uh, yeah, sorry. But, please.”

It’s not as though he’s a desirable person to touch. But hurt brings out comfort—in most people, in the best people. And with comfort usually comes touch. He doesn’t want to presume what she’ll do. Doesn’t want to strip her of her agency in presuming. But he really, really can’t let her touch him.

Deflecting yet simultaneously earnest:

“Are you, are you okay? It must be, I mean, it might, maybe, uh, maybe it’s upsetting to see someone like this. Sooo. Uh, really, this is about you. Can you tell me if you’re okay. Is that okay of me to ask?”

He can feel his chest heaving. He closes his mouth and lets his breath shake out through his nostrils in an attempt to steady it. She doesn’t look scared of him. She just looks concerned. And that’s familiar, that’s a state he’s used to evoking in others. His breathing softens slightly. He tries not to linger on the recognition of others’ concern being a kind of comfort to him, but the idea has stuck and his breathing quickens again—faster.

#ic #solichor #solichor. 001 #i love how both of your staters for bev have been summer seeing a pathetic man and immediately offering to help him

charlotteagerillustration

#*moodboard.

memoryslandscape-deactivated202

“Sometimes I really believe it, that I am going to save my life a little.”

— Mary Oliver, from section 4 of “The Return,” What Do We Know: Poems and Prose Poems (Da Capo Press, 2002)

#*moodboard.#*words.

The list goes on forever Of all the ways I could be better in my mind As if I could earn God's favor given time Or at least congratulations

Now, I have learned my lesson The price of this so called perfection is everything I've spent my whole life searching desperately To find out that grace requires nothing of me

#*moodboard.#*music.#sleeping at last really does hit hard.#espec for bev.