Smoke Rings

Well, I finished reading the Virgin Suicides in two days... it would have taken me less time if I didn't have to do other stuff in between. I could literally not put it down. As per usual, I enjoyed the book far more than I enjoyed the movie... which is one of my favorites. I was absolutely floored by the amount of detail that the author, Jeffrey Eugenides, went into in not only describing the girls as a group, but also as individuals. Each of them were very different and I felt like I knew them by the end of the book.

I chose a really shitty time to start reading the novel, unfortunately. Lets just say that I can't win in war... or in love. Every word I say only harms my case, and only pushes the issue instead of helping... what I am attempting to to. I have no idea what I'm doing anymore. I worry constantly. And I'm beginning to doubt myself.

The book furthered my sorrows, but calmed me in a strange way. I felt like I could relate to the Lisbon girls. I could always understand their strangled existence. Have you ever felt so caged in that you can barely breathe? You aren't sure what is the cause but the air just has a closeness that simply envelopes your entire being. I've been feeling that way on and off for years now, and to this day I cannot decide the remedy. I also relate to their individual torture. Their parents stifled who they were because they believed it was right. My parent's didn't exactly stifle me (I was far too willful) but, they did not exactly be silent in their judgement and disapproval. To this day, I'm still terrified of disappointing them; I don't think that will ever go away.

I guess I'll never get why they were how they were or hell... why I am who I am, but my best bet is that past experience builds your adult self.

And all I can say, is that I hope things get better... I think I've earned it.

"She kept her face to the floor, moving in her personal oblivion, her
sunflower eyes fixed on the predicament of her life we would never
understand."