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bitch you better not be sitting and staring at your old wounds forever wtf

done healing my inner child. next up is my inner teen. her highness demands a sword.

Thinking about Grantaire

Thinking about a version of him where, behind all of his cynicism and sarcasm and unseriousness there's a depression, and an intense an all consuming terror at the idea of death. I'm sure to some extent there's an ideation there, a wish to rest, but thinking about it in any more specific terms than "I don't want to be here anymore" sends him spiralling into panic.

Thinking about him seeing Enjolras and looking up to him like a god, wanting so badly to cling to the light, the passion, the energy, the fearlessness he lacks. And yet, in doing so, he is surrounded by these talks of revolution that immediately, always, strike him as doomed to failure. Doomed to death. Yes, he cares about his friends (and really, he cares SO much), yes, he cares about making the world a better place (a little bit less, but it's still there) but Grantaire cannot help but fear that he is dooming himself by merely existing around them. So he drinks, and he is mean, because as scared as he is he cares far too much to leave them now. He knows, has known from the start, that Enjolras will die. Maybe it's just the pessimism, maybe it's truly a premonition, but from the start Grantaire is certain that Enjolras is going to die.

For a second though, he can ignore it - he can march with them, sing with them, build the barricade a little soberer than usual, can get caught up in the fanfare and the noise and the energy and the PRESENCE of Enjolras and, for a second, pretend like they aren't all doomed.

And then there's Gavroche.

Gavroche, who probably reminds Grantaire a little bit of himself - the messy hair, the loudness, the pure and unfiltered childish confidence that it'll all work out, and suddenly Grantaire has something to protect. In the production of Les Mis I'm currently in, during Eponine's death Grantaire spends the scene desperately trying to avert Gavroche and the other children's eyes from the girl that none of them realize is dying. Grantaire knows, he knows from the MOMENT he sees her, and he is terrified, but for once the terror for these boys outweighs the reignited terror for his own life.

Thinking about Grantaire realizing that Gavroche does not quite know death (not death in battle, at least - the streets are different, the death there is different too), and thus does not quite fear it, and so he fears it enough for the both of them.

Thinking about Eponine's death reigniting every bit of panic at the thought of dying, the reality of the situation, weighing back onto Grantaire as the night falls. Thinking about him getting drunk, bitter through the soft celebration the rest of them share. Thinking about him slurring through his verse in drink with me, and Enjolras suddenly seeing right through the anger and the grief to the personal hell Grantaire is sitting in. "Will the world remember you when you fall/can it be your death means nothing at all/is your life just one more lie?" is sung to Enj, but they both know it's really about R.

Thinking about how, in my production, Grantaire settles to sleep almost right beside Gavroche. Thinking about him, mostly asleep, hearing Bring Him Home and knowing that were he sober enough to do so, he would sing the same for Gav.

Thinking about the next morning, when Gavroche climbs the barricade, and Grantaire is terrified enough for the both of them - enough so, that in this moment, he quite nearly forgets how to be afraid for himself. Thinking about Enjolras catching Gavroche and immediately passing him down to Grantaire, because grieving as they all are, Enjolras knows. Thinking about Grantaire CRADLING Gavroche's body, desperately trying to wake him up, bring him back, keep him warm, even as the battle continues on around him.

Thinking about the eventual realization that Gavroche is gone, and with it, the fear enough for the both of him. Thinking about him still, somehow, forgetting how to be afraid for himself - whether that's the grief talking or the truth, we'll never know.

Thinking about the realization that with his boy, his kid gone, Enjolras is certain to follow suit. Grantaire's always known that Enjolras was doomed, but now there isn't someone to protect, someone to fear for, and he's forgotten how to fear for himself.

Thinking about the fact that, in most productions, Enjolras falls off the barricade towards the enemy. Thinking about the fact that Grantaire then spends the rest of his life desperately trying to reach the top of the barricade - sometimes even managing to swing his legs over the same ledge Enjolras fell off of, before being shot, and falling backwards, staying on his side. Thinking about the fact that even when the stage does not permit it the way a novel or a movie can, Grantaire still does everything in his power to die beside Enjolras.

Thinking about the fact that his last thought was probably that his last action, his last attempt, his chance to prove himself to Enjolras, was a failure.

Thinking about Grantaire.

hermes in hadestown is the exact opposite of an unreliable narrator. a tortured narrator. a little *too* reliable. incredibly aware of exactly what is happening at any given moment, vaguely spoiling it for you in the beginning, despairing every second of it. but ultimately motivated to continue to tell the story over and over and over with a smiling face for the sake of the audience, and for the sake of the characters themselves, singing it again to keep them alive. knowing how it will end, but singing it again so that the cycle may restart and eurydice may come back to life. enduring the misery of it all, over and over, holding the knowledge of what will come to pass but continuing anyway to see orpheus happy just one more time before it all goes down in flames again.

Lolita Lempicka FW 1997

Linda Friesen 'The Stardust 2.0 version' Haute Couture Gown

when someone doesn’t wanna tell me what i did wrong and suddenly i’m 8 years old wondering what i did to make my mom mad again

seeking, yearning, reaching hands