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I was a victim of extrodinary, unspeakable violence and because of that experience, I learned to defend myself. Not only with actual violence, but with an ability to project a dangerous air; an aura of don't-fuck-with-me-ness that exists at the very frame of my demeanor when I am alone, on the train, at night, surrounded by tweakers and the boogeymen of perceived threat. This armor of attitude is not something I give up lightly, or even easily, so know when I say that a book had me weeping on the train this evening on the way home, it is high testament to the power of the writing.
If you have not read Barbara Kingsolver's The Poisonwood Bible, do it.
Oh
My
Fucking
God.
And I am not even finnished with it yet.
If you have not read Barbara Kingsolver's The Poisonwood Bible, do it.
Oh
My
Fucking
God.
And I am not even finnished with it yet.
no subject
Date: 2006-04-11 03:36 am (UTC)too bad she tainted that book- it is amazing from what I hear.
no subject
Date: 2006-04-11 03:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-11 03:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-11 05:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-11 05:04 am (UTC)