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2da3cde
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We try on different dresses, different selves, but our souls are always the same - ongoing, full of light.
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Francesca Lia Block |
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f3954d8
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He said, You're so tiny, like a doll, you look like you might break. I wanted him to break me. Part of me did.
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Francesca Lia Block |
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9177522
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Sometimes she wore Levi's with white-suede fringe sewn down the legs and a feathered Indian headdress, sometimes old fifties' taffeta dresses covered with poetry written in glitter, or dresses made of kids' sheets printed with pink piglets or Disney characters.
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inspirational
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Francesca Lia Block |
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d94aa96
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My mother said, "kiss him, darling, it's easy so natural" and I thought to myself, not with lips of stone, dear mother, not with lips of stone"
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Francesca Lia Block |
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06e5261
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love is the only thing we have to save us
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Francesca Lia Block |
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5099e00
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She felt their envy and this broke her. The story ended, she couldn't tell the rest, they'd hate her, she had to stop, she wasn't any good, shut up you bad, bad, bad ugly girl and you don't deserve any of this and so the spell was broken and she ran home through a tangle of words where the letters jumbled and made no sense and meant nothing, and the words were ugly and she was not to be heard or seen, she was blemished and too fat, too thin..
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Francesca Lia Block |
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23174eb
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Maybe one night I'll be asleep and I'll feel a hand like a dove on my cheekbone and feel her breath cool like peppermints and when I open my eyes my mom will be there like an angle, saying in the softest voice, When you are born it is like a long, long dream. Don't try to wake up. Just go along until it is over. Don't be afraid. You may not know it all the time but I am with you. I am with you.
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Francesca Lia Block |
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b8453f8
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She wasn't crying at all. This was what scared him the most. Where had she locked up the things he'd seen her feeling that day when she heard? She wasn't that big a girl to hold all of it--to hold her brother's life and his death inside of her. To hold all his long-limbed raging tidal motion and all the loss of that.
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loss
withdrawal
morning
mourn
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Francesca Lia Block |
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6b97616
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I was staring to learn how to forget the things that made me sad. It was like a charm you followed step-by-step, collecting and blending the ingredients, placing everything in its proper place, reciting the incantation. It was the magic of forgetting.
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Francesca Lia Block |
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3b57910
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L.A. kills people.' Jacaranda said. 'You're lucky you're leaving. You'll be able to write.' She looked paler, going through another depression, smoking in bed in her lilac room. The walls were the color of her veins. She was getting too thin, even for the modeling. . .Jacaranda died last winter when the flowering trees were bare. You couldn't even tell which ones once cried the purple blossoms she named herself after.
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winter
friendship
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Francesca Lia Block |
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5d6780f
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Welcome Beauty, banish fear.
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Francesca Lia Block |
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c1e9fb4
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You have to make your own family, your own life.
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Francesca Lia Block |
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7c28f4c
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He was so handsome,but he didn't look well.He reminded her of a cigarette.
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Francesca Lia Block |
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0ccedd5
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When they first kiss, there on the beach, they will kneel at the edge of the Pacific and say a prayer of thanks, sending all the stories of love inside them out in a fleet of bottles all across the oceans of the world.
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Francesca Lia Block |
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2cd89a1
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I pounded through the houses, staggering down the hallways, falling down the steps. It was a hot streaky dawn full of insecticides, exhaust, flowers that could make you sick or fall in love. My battered Impala was still parked there on the side of the road and I wanted to lie down on the shredded seats and sleep and sleep. But I thought of the bones; I could hear them singing. They needed me to write their song.
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Francesca Lia Block |
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ab8cacf
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It was always a relief when she came home to him. Like water or food. Like music or that moment when you cut yourself with a knife and squeeze the skin and no blood oozes out.
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love
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Francesca Lia Block |
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736cf88
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Why was fabulousness important? The world was a scary, sad place and adornment was one of the only ways she knew to make herself and the people around her forget their troubles. That was why she had opened her store almost five years ago. Everyone who entered the little square white house with miniature Corinthian columns, cherub statues, and French windows seemed to leave carrying armloads of newly handmade and well spruced-up recycled vin..
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Francesca Lia Block |
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5093c8b
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You still cry too easily, but without your tears, at least, everything would burn. You are Spring in your jeans, in the laughing leaves. I think pearls melted over your bones.
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Francesca Lia Block |
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f0986f9
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Ugster vinyl pumps, Partridge Family records, plastic daisy jewelry, old postcards. . . . It's a magpie Christmas market.
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culture
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Francesca Lia Block |
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9712cea
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There's nowhere to escape," Dobey said, jamming his hands into his pockets and staring into the Valley. That's not true, baby," said Desiree. She took his hands and pulled him to her, wrapping her legs around his torso. She could feel the sobs in both of them, but quiet, silenced by the kiss. They could escape inside each other."
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Francesca Lia Block |
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879db99
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Love is the worst earthquake there is. Can crush you to the thickness of your bones. Love can be like cancer sometimes. Terminal. It can make you vomit. It can make you want to cut it out. It can take you over against your will.
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Francesca Lia Block |
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930afe5
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It was like when we were little kids and we played games on the ivy-covered hillside in the backyard. We were warriors and wizards and angels and high elves and that was our reality. If someone said, Isn't it cute, look at them playing, we would have smiled back, humoring them, but it wasn't playing. It was transformation. It was our own world. Our own rules.
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reality
fantasy
playing-games
playing
pretending
pretend
fantastic
games
fantasies
game
children
childhood
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Francesca Lia Block |
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142e559
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She knew they were all afraid. But love and disease are both like electricity, Weetzie thought. They are always there -- you can't see or smell or hear, touch or taste them, but you know they are there like a current in the air. We can choose, Weetzie thought, we can choose to plug into the love current instead.
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love
electricity
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Francesca Lia Block |
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ba2d275
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Think about the word destroy. Do you know what it is? De-story. Destroy. Destory. You see. And restore. That's re-story. Do you know that only two things have been proven to help survivors of the Holocaust? Massage is one. Telling their story is another. Being touched and touching. Telling your story is touching. It sets you free.
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storytelling
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Francesca Lia Block |
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4d29d51
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I think that poetry is perfect for women raising children, with just bits of time and such need to connect to other women out of the isolation of motherhood.
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Francesca Lia Block |
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33363c6
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My reading and studying and retellings of old stories didn't do anything except help me think better. I was at least thoughtful. Too thoughtful, my friends said. And all I thought about was myths and old paintings that made me feel drunk on wine or struck my lightning but didn't matter to most people.
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retellings
mythology
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Francesca Lia Block |
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5b173e9
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I didn't tell him that what I was most scared of, most haunted by, was something I didn't understand and could never run away from. It was myself.
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Francesca Lia Block |
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48076a8
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Witch Baby wanted to ask Ping how to find her Jah-Love angel. She knew Raphael was not him, even though Raphael had the right eyes and smile and name. She knew how he looked--the angel in her dream--but she didn't know how to find him. Should she roller-skate through the streets in the evenings when the streetlights flicker on? Should she stow away to Jamaica on a cruise ship and search for him in the rain forests and along the beaches? Wou..
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romance
love
unrequited
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Francesca Lia Block |
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05d2c1f
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Same old boring boring story America can't stop telling itself. What is this sicko fascination? Every book and movie practically has to have a little, right? But why do you think all those runaways are on the streets tearing up their veins with junk and selling themselves so they can sleep in the gutter? What do you think the alternative was at home?
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Francesca Lia Block |
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8234d3e
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Under the twinkling trees was a table covered with Guatemalan fabric, roses in juice jars, wax rose candles from Tijuana and plates of food -- Weetzie's Vegetable Love-Rice, My Secret Agent Lover Man's guacamole, Dirk's homemade pizza, Duck's fig and berry salad and Surfer Surprise Protein Punch, Brandy-Lynn's pink macaroni, Coyote's cornmeal cakes, Ping's mushu plum crepes and Valentine's Jamaican plantain pie. Witch Baby's stomach growled..
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Francesca Lia Block |
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ac2b081
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Yes, the Beast changed. He spoke more now, and did not gaze at Beauty in the same intense, almost pained way, as if he were feeling every emotion she felt. He did not sigh in his sleep when she sighed and his stomach didn't growl when hers hurt. He could not read her thoughts anymore, and she could not read his. He seemed a bit more clumsy and guarded and distant, too. They no longer ran through the woods together, although they still walke..
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Francesca Lia Block |
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eb18bb1
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Under the ground seep the toxins of the population that lives above. If you have to, you will eat roots and earthworms. It is always night. Candles burn in lanterns made from tin cans. When it is nighttime up above, you can crawl out, but only for a little while. You feel ashamed of your matted hair, your torn clothes, the dirt on your face. Who would want to speak to you? They are all shiny and pretty. They have parents and house with gard..
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longing
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Francesca Lia Block |
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9fd1f6c
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Maybe he was real. Maybe I'd made him up. Either way, he didn't think I needed him anymore. Maybe he was right.
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Francesca Lia Block |
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0a3d9cc
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Once she was standing by her locker and her puka shells broke and scattered and she made a joke about it but he could tell she was upset. He wanted to buy her some more. He wanted to give her a million strands of little nesting polished shells, and tropical flowers and ice creams and lemonades and a pale blue surfboard to teach her to surf on and anything else she wanted. Instead he let his checkered Vans step on one of the rolling shells a..
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jealousy
jealous
envy
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Francesca Lia Block |
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ba602af
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He might be faithless but I believe in him.
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romance
teenage-love
ya-lit
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Francesca Lia Block |
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1ee5434
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It's hard to remember what you fall in love with. Usually it is an expression in the eyes, an exchange, or a gesture or the sound of a voice, a word spoken. Those things can get blended with the atmosphere around you at the time -- a fragrance in the air, a play of light, even music -- so that they become almost one with each other and when you see or smell or hear the memories of a place you feel the love again, but as a pang of loss. Some..
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Francesca Lia Block |
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bb22991
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All the things that girls feel they are not when they fear that if they become, if they are, they will no longer be loved by the sisters whose hearts they have not meant to break. And besides, if the sisters are gone and only the beloved remains with his dense curls and his lips, how safe are you then? You have to have him or you will die if the sisters are gone with their listening ears and their feet to rub and their bodies to dress and t..
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Francesca Lia Block |
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9e0c5ef
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Grandma Fifi had two friends named Martin and Merlin who were afraid in a way Dirk didn't want to be. They were both very handsome and kind and always brought candies and toys when they came over for tea and Fifi's famous pastries. But as much as Dirk liked Martin and Merlin he knew he was different from them. They talked in voices as pale and soft as the shirts they wore and they moved as gracefully as Fifi did. Their eyes were startled an..
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Francesca Lia Block |
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953793e
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The happier you are, the less you need.
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Francesca Lia Block |
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397965a
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Tinys do not deserve safety. If they are to prove themselves, they must suffer and die or suffer and survive.
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Francesca Lia Block |
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45ea848
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I will go to campus alone dressed in antique silk slips and beat-up cowboy boots and gypsy beads, and I will study poetry. I will sit on the edge of the fountain in the plaza and write.
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poetry
writing
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Francesca Lia Block |
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c3175c7
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People worry so much. Just enjoy your body. That you can love. And you're alive.
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love
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Francesca Lia Block |
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8e3fef6
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If you were sad about something that hadn't happened yet you couldn't be disappointed.
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Francesca Lia Block |
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efc43d3
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So Witch Baby played. Tossing her head, sucking in her cheeks and popping up with the impact of each beat. Thrusting her whole body into the music and thrusting the music into the air around her. She imagined that her drums were planets and the music was all the voices of growth and light and life joined together and traveling the universe.
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Francesca Lia Block |