How all Loki could say was “Trust my rage” and when Jane Eyre wrote “Strange energy was in his voice, strange fire in his look” , also when Matthew Rhys screamed “ I am not angry, I am in pain and you put me here, the person who is supposed to love me more than anything”
Controlled rage and mask slipping for that minuscule moment is what I adore adore in Byronic tropes.
A friend on a call today picked out a word that I used. She said she enjoyed how I used the word ‘infused’. Sounded exotic to her perhaps. Maybe a little silly. But I am always trying to distill borrowed rituals in my life. Fill the air with moments from pages I have held between my fingers, songs that winds have carried to me and the fleeting memories of TV shows from my childhood I am sure I remember more of and less of than there was.
When Jane Austen wrote, 'There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.' and when
Nietzsche said, ' It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages.'
When Mark Twain said," Good friends, good books, and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life." And when Penelope Fitzgerald said, "Understanding makes the mind lazy"
When I feel quite morose I pretend that I live in a non- racist seaside town in England in the late the 70's. Listing to same songs in my living room wearing quite gawdy and itchy colourful knitwear and waiting for all the bad taste of 80s to unleash all the while eating the only kind of bread available.
White ( maybe brown too) depending on your persuation