#faulkner posting

[mimbing]

do you think shreve mccanon-mckenzie and quentin compson ever explo

[mimbing]

but wait there is something there I think about Shreve being Canadian, being foreign, being completely outside the postbellum framework that’s eating the compson family alive; all he sees is that Quentin needs help, not Mrs. Bland’s lost ideal or Spoade’s yankee distrust, shreve just sees a 20 year old freshman who can’t get out of bed and a friend trying to clean the blood off of his own shirt

[mimbing]

sartre: Faulkner's heroes never look ahead, they face backwards, able to distinguish the murky present only once it forms into the solidified past; their futures are not human possibility, not for a second does Quentin envisage the possibility of not killing himself. His suicide is an immobile wall... not an undertaking but a fatality. It ceases to exist in the future. It is already present, and the monologues and walk of Quentin's last day are viewed in his past, as if he is remembering.

me: sir yes sir *fires six revolver shots at my own noggin*

[ilovemygf2-16-24]

I want you so bad please cum on my face

Can you be fucking normal and ask about my day or something for the love of fucking god

My husband does more than that AND he kisses me after bitch

I love him

[ilovemygf2-16-24]

can I sniff ur panties

I'm actually going to fucking kill myself because of this what is WRONG with you. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU ☹️

[cat-athea]

don't care + didn't ask + im drowning you

[mimbing]

shreve: so yeah his family's fucked up, but quentin's like a little dog shivering under a bridge. I wanna wrap him in a blanket and feed him soup, you know?

spoade: he just had a psychotic episode and fistfought one of our oldest friends while he was driving a moving car.

shreve: yes.

spoade:

shreve: and what of it?

[mimbing]

imagine your harvard roommate meeting someone's mom and she's so mad about the fact that he's from mississippi and you're fucking canadian that she marches over to the registrar and tries to kick you out so he can be her own son's roommate and you're just sitting there with your hat in your hands in 1910 like ma'am. ma'am why.