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[bbbcnnie]

backseat-philosopher​:

who: cole & open!

where: base camp!

what: cole is sick of bonnie’s music…

Cole tried to be agreeable– he really did! Try! But hearing nothing but Madonna and Whitney for the last three days was wearing on him, making him more irritable than usual. The second their RV was in park, Cole grabbed his backpack, offered a rushed goodbye, and all but collapsed out of the front door. He was stunned for a second; half of him was expecting all the stories about the summit– about a bigger group of rubber tramps– to be just stories. But the camp was full and bustling with commotion. Slinking through the throng of people, Cole located his target. Leaning forward on an arm, he mustered up a friendly smile. “You got a stereo deck that’s unoccupied? Or a Walkman? Mine’s busted.” More than he hated talking to new people, Cole needed to cleanse his ears– to listen to some real music.

***

you see, bonnie would describe herself as a good and patient woman. others wouldn’t, perhaps, but they could shove their opinions back up their whatevers. sure, yeah, she was no mother theresa, but she had worked on her temper and it wasn’t nearly as lethal to those around her as it once had been. robbing the rich blind really did wonders of settling a person! anyway, point is, bonnie could and would endure a sensible amount of provocation and agitation. having grown up with four siblings you sort of had to, you know, to survive.

but enough was e-fucking-nough. as so often, one walden alexander cole had managed to bring things to a boil. it wasn’t a rarity for the two of them to have the occasional argument about music, who got control of the radio (bonnie, obviously) and whatnot. but the past, say, four hours leading up to their arrival at the summit had crossed the line from an amicable squabble to ‘i’m about to throw you out of this moving car’ - territory. 

and so, when cole had moved to jump out the barely parked rv at the first chance, without so much as another word other than a muttered ‘bye’, in complete disregard of their argument, bonnie had wasted no time and climbed over tatiana’s lap, jumping out after him. this, this was not fucking finished. and she felt eerily close to her mother, possessed by her spirit, even, as she speed walked past the crowd of rubber tramps, coming to a stop a few feet away from cole.

‘stereo deck’, ‘walkman’. so he was looking for another poor soul who would play his shit music, huh? well. she certainly wasn’t a saint, but if she could save just one person from steely dan’s lastest tracks then, by god, she’d do this one good deed. her smile was wide, frozen, almost freakish in how fake it was as she approached cole from behind, clasping her hands on his shoulders. /small>

“there you are, sugar! been lookin’ for you all over, had me worried sick, you had! you can’t just get up and get runnin’!” bonnie squezed his shoulders, gave him a look that read ‘don’t fucking mess with me’ in how dark and fiery it was, before she turned to the stranger cole had approached, a warm smile on her face as she gave the best impression of those ladies from her momma’s book club, accent thicker than it had been in nearly eight years. “oh, i do apologise, i do! you see, this is my son here, walden alexander - he’s just so over-excited, this is his first time at the summit -  he’s only fourteen!” accentuated by a sharp pinch to cole’s cheek. “i say ‘only’ fourteen! heaven, where’s the time gone! my little baby all grown up - why don’t you say hello to the nice stranger, wally! come on, be kind. remember your manners, honeypie.”

[bbbcnnie]

WHO: bonnie + open!

WHAT: somebody get bonnie a gd pencil or she will do something drastic

WHERE:  the campground

so, the summit was always a nice and welcome event, time to relax and sit back, put your feet up, rest your muscles sore from running from the authorities. truly, bonnie did always look forward to the summit - didn’t happen too often that they stayed in one place for an extended period of time, and the restlessness soon made one’s soul weary - however, there could always be a sort of pattern observed. for bonnie, personally, at least. when the second or third day approached, the daybreak brought the boredom with it. sure, you had plenty time to go do the things you usually didn’t have time for. but .... well, what exactly were those things? when one spent their life constantly on the move, no need to do taxes or tedious housework or any of that. and besides, existing under such rushed and dangerous circumstances, bonnie had grown used to doing everything fast.

explaining why she was on her second cigarette since stepping outside and plopping down on a folding chair set up outside the rv, not even fifteen minutes ago. sunglasses balanced precariously on the tip of her nose - cheeky buggers kept sliding forward - a litany of curses fell from her lips as she struggled to twist the messed up tape of one of her favourite  cassettes back into its casing. she highly suspected walden to be resposible for this crime, but what use was that to her now. no, the only thing of use right now would be ....

“hey!” pushing her sunglasses into her hair, she squinted at someone in the distance, giving them a lackluster wave to attract their attention. usually she would’ve just thrown something at them, but the only things handy were her cigarette and the tape. maybe next time. “hey, you there! comin’ my way? you happen to have a pencil or pen, or somethin’ similar with you?”

[bbbcnnie]

ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʳᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿ' ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵒˡˡⁱⁿ' ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉᵃʳ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐᵒᵐᵐᵃ ᶜᵃˡˡ !

ᵇᵒⁿⁿⁱᵉ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵗᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵍˡᵒʳⁱᵃ ᵐᵃʳʸ ᶜᵃʳˢᵒⁿ

BONNIE CARSON? out here on the road, they have a reputation of being CUNNING + HUMOROUS but also RECKLESS + EASILY AGITATED, no wonder they’re called BONNIE. according to local legend, they’re 30 and when they pull up to camp not a soul can mistake the sound of GOOD GOLLY MISS MOLLY – CREEDENCE CLEARWATER REVIVAL following them. some say they carry A FADED, YELLOWED PICTURE OF HER CHILDHOOD CAT; A PIECE OF RED STRING TIED AROUND HER FINGER THAT SERVES AS A MAKESHIFT WEDDING BAND; HER NAN’S PRAYER BOOK; EVERY RAY CHARLES TAPE SHE COULD FIND IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT  and have been traveling with THE CON JOBS.  ( soph ! )

pinterest - spotify 

CUE: ‘Our Father’ – The Five Blind Boys of Mississippi

A run-down bungalow-like shack, that probably used to be a farmhouse of some kind before big corporate came to town and robbed everyone of their land. Plaster’s coming off the wall, slowly but surely, but it’ll be another couple months before it gets damp and cold and someone’s actually gotta do something about that, so it’s ignored for now. The deep south, the 1950’s, in the midst of stifling heat, that’s where Constance Gloria Mary Carson is born, to mixed feelings – her father rejoices, a girl! Just what he wanted. Her mother only sighs and slumps back into the pillows. A girl, harder to get out of the house and working than a boy. Maybe she’ll be lucky again the next time ‘round.

Rolling Fork, Mississippi may have be a literal hellhole in every aspect of the word when looking back on it now, but from 1955 to 1960, the vast wasteland her father lovingly called their ‘backyard’ had been nothing short of an adventurous playground for little Connie May. Running around the place while momma shook her head and daddy read his paper, swinging by the tracks to watch the trains roll in and out every day, try and chase them for a bit until your lungs were burning and you were forced to stop, skip back home for a bland, in no way nutritious dinner. With a population of barely 1,300 , there was not much else to do. Perfect place to grow up, huh?

Soon enough, the Carsons turned from a family of four to a family of seven, and once deemed old enough – ‘She’s five, Jerry, for Heaven’s sake, she’ll manage watching’ the little ones, calm your horses’ – Connie May’s childhood abruptly stopped as she instead assumed the role of primary caregiver for her three younger siblings. Mom and Pop had to work all day, every day, with the paint peeling off the walls and the floorboards disintegrating underfoot, they had no other choice. In the neighbourhood, though, there are people who’ve got it worse, and the Carson’s are a pious family, so Connie May doesn’t even think about being unthankful for the little they have. Because they could have even less – when little Connie thinks about that too much her lips begin to quiver and her eyes grow awfully hot, a stinging pain underneath her lids as she tries to blink away her tears. Her mother had once reported, complained, nearly, to Mrs. Johnson from too houses down that Connie May was ‘a sickly little creature blessed – or cursed – with empathy’.

CUE: ‘Oh Happy Day’ – The Edwin Hawkins Singers

From the get-go, Connie May just … knows she’s different. She can feel it. It causes trouble from the moment she starts to talk. She’s an opinionated little girl, never shy to speak her mind. Because when the Swinging Sixties roll around, as Connie grows older and wiser, it gets increasingly harder and then, one day, impossible to ignore the inevitable. Rolling Fork was a death sentence. You’re born here, you procreate here, you die here. Simple as that. As your fathers and grandfathers and great-grandfathers have done before you. Get married off to the highest bidders, have a couple kids – or a couple dozen – and care for them while your slob of a husband goes to work at his shitty job that has him earning just enough so you’re just poor, not dirt poor.

Everyone around her, neighbours, classmates, they just .. .accept their situation. No, they are content with it. Content with knowing there’ll be no space for surprises, for action and adventure and all the fun stuff Connie May reads about in the novels she secretly slips from the library. That the furthest they’re ever getting from here is Louisville, if they’re lucky. It’s infuriating. It’s making her lose her mind.

The only escape from insanity is every other Sunday, when Momma and Daddy have to work and Mr. and Mrs. Dowall from next door take them to church. And heavens, does Bonnie love church. Not their regular church! Oh no, that’s just a stuffy little room, full of the same snot nosed kids she sits next to at school, who pull her hair and call her ‘nanny’ because she can’t join them at the county fair, has to watch her siblings instead. No, no, the Dowall church is different. The service there is the most exciting part of Connie May’s week. There’s always laughter and singing, gospel and worship in the way that she can get behind. A few weeks later, Mr. and Mrs. Dowall, with Momma’s approval, gift her two of their old records.

There are few fond memories of home, but one of them is dancing around the living room to ‘I Got A Woman’ and ‘Strange Things Happening Everyday’, standing on her father’s feet.

CUE: ‘Jesus Is Just Alright With Me’ – The Doobie Brothers

Connie May turns 17 in 1972, and by that time she’s got 2 friends, excluding her three younger siblings. Obviously excluding them, whatever connection she’s had to them has faded ever since their mother had begun to use Connie as a prime example for a person that had failed in life. Because her brother Robert had married his high school sweetheart the second they’d both turned 18, and he’d moved out a day after the wedding. They’re just … kids to her now. They’re getting older, too. They all take after her mother. It makes Connie sad, her dad, too, she sees it in the way he scratches his beard as if he’s lost in thought when, really, he’s tragically melancholic. Connie often wonders for how long her parents have been unhappy for.

Well, the ‘swinging sixties’ have come and gone, and so have the Dowell’s from next door and the fun services. Not dead, oh no, they just moved to live with their daughter and grandchildren, down in California. Good for them. Connie’s left, and she’s using the music they’ve gifted her to rebel against fucking everything in this god forsaken town. Tommy, Misha and her listen to records their parents don’t allow them to listen to because it’s ‘filthy, ungodly music’ in secret. Somehow, Connie May managed to convince her Momma that The Doobie Brothers were a nice, Christian rock n’ roll band. Maybe she’d had a gift for the odd con job ever since the beginning, huh?

CUE: ‘The Wild One’- Suzi Quatro

It takes another five fucking years for her life to finally change. In the year of our Lord, 1977, a dishevelled looking young woman with a million dollar smile rolls into town and Connie can only think of divine intervention as the cause of this … this miracle. Freshly twenty two, she’s already a burden to her parents – and reminded of that fact daily, thanks Momma! – and wants nothing more than to get out but there’s no way to escape. No loophole. Until, enter stage left, Tatiana appears. And changes her life for fucking ever,

First by changing her name. A simple mishearing turns Connie May into BONNIE and it just sticks. She sticks with it. She’s a new person and ready to embrace it.

Everything about Tatiana draws her in, and it is quite possible that the other woman is the coolest fucking person Bonnie has ever met. She’s so … god! She’s so everything that Rolling Fork is not, everything that Bonnie wants to be. She’s funny and nice, in her own way. She’s the most beautiful woman Bonnie has ever laid eyes upon. She’s dangerous and Bonnie craves the thrill of the unknown more than oxygen.

It's a quick and easy decision when Tatiana fina-fucking-lly invited her to join her on the road, live a life of adventure. In the dark of the night, Bonnie stuffs only the most important of her belongings into a duffel bag, leaves a note for her father telling him she’s safe and happy, and expressing her hope that he, too, may find happiness again, and then jumps into the passenger seat, laughing manically. Ready to leave her old life behind.

She doesn’t even glance in the rearview mirror when the pull out of the driveway.

However, Bonnie does lean out of the window as far as she can as they pass the sign that, in ugly faded letters, says: “You’re now leaving Rolling Fork! May God bless you and come again soon!” A fair bit of it was left covered in her spit.

CUE: ‘Whole Lotta Love’ – Led Zeppelin

Bonnie adjusts to life on the road fucking awfully at first but hey, she’s got much to learn and Tatiana is the best teacher one could’ve asked for. Bonnie might be naïve but she’s more than ready and willing to thrust herself into this life of crime. A little confused but she’s got the spirit! Most times her job’s simply to wait at the side of the road and look pretty and then pump the fucking gas when she goes from distraction to getaway driver. It’s turbulent, everything moving so fucking fast, but Bonnie has never felt so alive.

And so they make their way through the States, got a little routine going of sorts. Until one day, when they turn from Thelma and Louis to Bonnie and Clyde.

Usually, Bonnie’s got this thing where she puts on Creedence when they do their jobs, pull their stunts. This time, she goes for Led Zeppelin. Maybe it’s the thrill of the unfamiliar that causes the adrenaline to pump through her veins even faster, until suddenly, she finds herself standing behind some security guards who’d been about to corner and overpower Tatiana – she’s standing behind them and she’s got a gun pressed to one’s back while she’s got one of her boots pressed to the other’s neck. The guards let them go, they speed off, and once it’s safe enough, Bonnie pulls to the side of the road to yank Tatiana forward by her shirt. And, well, the rest is history. The rest is foggy windows and giggles and a drive to some poor pastor’s church who they bribe into giving them a marriage license, a fucking official one.

Next time they pull into the summit they’re fucking married. Spontaneous decisions had always been their forte.

CUE: ‘Blue Highway’ – Billy Idol

1985. It’s been some long years on the road since Rolling Fork. Hectic and dangerous and thrilling and just all in all fucking delightful. Even eight years down the line, Bonnie can’t find it within herself to regret the decisions that had brought her here, back to the summit, in their trusty old RV, her wife by her side. She fucking loves it, all of it. She loves Tatiana. Maybe not in the most conventional of ways for a married couple but she does, she loves her. Even if this open relationship typa situation they got on their hands isn’t her piece of cake – who’s she to complain? She might not be a godly woman anymore but she’s the same little Connie May that couldn’t bring herself to be unthankful for everything she had.

Hell, Bonnie even finds herself growing more fond of the other Con Jobs they picked up along the way. Even if she gets into fights with Wally over his choice of music every other day, even if Alfie and Wally do a god awful job of sneaking around every fucking night. She’s never wanted to be a mother or any of that shit, having spent her formative years as the sole caregiver of three little kids meant she had quite enough of kids for now.

But, then again, having cared for her siblings all these years had left its mark, and though she tries to hide it, Bonnie can’ t help but care when there’s a lost soul that needs her help. ‘Cursed with empathy’. At least you got that one right, Momma.

One rule has never waivered these past years on the road: Nobody touches the goddamn radio. Bonnie’s got full control over it. Even if she wants to take a trip down memory lane and listen to Sister Rosetta sing her best gospel hymns. Even if she wants to indulge her inner child with Madonna and Whitney’s latest hits. Everyone just has to sit and endure. So – Hands off!

[bbbcnnie]

[bbbcnnie]

𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚙 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 (01/??)

 𝙵𝙰𝙳𝙴 𝙸𝙽:

𝚒𝚗𝚝 [𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚓𝚘𝚋𝚜’ 𝚛𝚟] — 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝

[𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚛𝚞𝚙𝚝𝚘𝚛 ‘𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎’ 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚕, 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚡𝚝𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚍𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚟. 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 – 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚐𝚞𝚗 – 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜. 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚞𝚙 – 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚊 𝚛𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚌𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗!]

 𝙱𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙴 𝙲𝙰𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚖𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚘 𝚘𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 ‘𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚐 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚐𝚎, 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝚈𝚘𝚛𝚔. 𝙼𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜 – ‘𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚜’ 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚖𝚊 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 – 𝚠𝚑𝚘’𝚍 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎, 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 -

𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙽𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙴𝚁𝚂, 𝙲𝙾𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙼𝙾𝚄𝚃𝙷 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙰 𝙼𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚃𝚆𝙾 𝙵𝙸𝙽𝙶𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝙸𝙽 𝙱𝙴𝚃𝚆𝙴𝙴𝙽 𝚆𝙷𝙸𝙲𝙷 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝚂𝙸𝚃𝚂 𝙰 𝙲𝙸𝙶𝙰𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴.

𝙱𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙴 𝙲𝙰𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽 (𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃'𝙳)

𝙰𝚗𝚍, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑 ‘𝚊 𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚜, 𝚝𝚘𝚘. 𝙰𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝙸 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 ‘𝚆𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚌𝚔’, 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?

𝙱𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙴 𝙵𝙻𝙸𝙲𝙺𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙰𝚂𝙷 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙲𝙸𝙶𝙰𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴 𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙾𝚆. 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙽 𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽𝚂 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚃𝙾 𝚈𝙾𝚄.

𝚂𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚔𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 – 𝙸 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚛, 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? – 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚂𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚌𝚑. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸’𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚠𝚜 – 𝚜𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚌 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝙸’𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍, 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 …. 𝙰𝚑, 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚖𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝, 𝚢’𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚝𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐, 𝙸’𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗 – 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚐, 𝚖𝚢 𝙶𝚘𝚍, 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚜, 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚢.

𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙶𝙰𝚉𝙴 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝙾𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚁𝙾𝙰𝙳 – 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚆𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙳 𝙾𝚁 𝙰𝙽𝚈𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶, 𝙱𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙴 𝙸𝚂 𝙰 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚈 𝚂𝙺𝙸𝙻𝙻𝙴𝙳 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚂𝙰𝙵𝙴 𝙳𝚁𝚅𝙸𝙴𝚁 – 𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙼𝙸𝙻𝙴𝚂 𝙰 𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚃𝙻𝙴, 𝚆𝙾𝙴𝙵𝚄𝙻 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙼𝙴𝙻𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙷𝙾𝙻𝙸𝙲.

‘𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎, 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝙳𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢’𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚌𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚌𝚑. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚓𝚘𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚒𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 ‘𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍:

“𝚃𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚢’𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 ‘𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚘𝚍𝚕𝚢’ – 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚘 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝙸 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗’ 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚖.”

𝙻𝙾𝚂𝚃 𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚄𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙰 𝙼𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃, 𝙱𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙴 𝙶𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙻𝚈 𝚂𝙷𝙰𝙺𝙴𝚂 𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳 𝚃𝙾 𝙷𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴𝙻𝙵 – 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙰 𝙼𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃 𝚂𝙷𝙴’𝚂 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴, 𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚈 𝙼𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃, 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝙵𝙴𝙴𝙻𝚂 𝙸𝚃 𝙰𝙻𝙻. 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙸𝙻𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝙸𝚂 𝙱𝚁𝙾𝙺𝙴𝙽 𝙱𝚈 𝙰 𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚃𝙻𝙴 𝙲𝙷𝚄𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙴.

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚐? ‘𝙻𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚆𝚒𝚗𝚐’ 𝚋𝚢 𝙹𝚒𝚖𝚒 𝙷𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚡. 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 ‘𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎, 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 ‘𝚜𝚑𝚎’ 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 ‘𝙷𝚎’, 𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝙷, 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎, 𝚝𝚘𝚘. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚍. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝙸 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝙹𝚒𝚖𝚒 𝙷𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚡. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝙸 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚔, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠? 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙶𝚘𝚍, 𝚝𝚘𝚘! –

𝙶𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍, 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕.

𝙰𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙼𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃 𝙾𝙵 𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙵𝙾𝚁𝚃𝙰𝙱𝙻𝙴 𝚂𝙸𝙻𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚄𝚁𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳𝚂 𝚈𝙾𝚄, 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙱𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙴 𝙸𝚂 𝙻𝙾𝚂𝚃 𝙸𝙽 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙼𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙿𝙰𝚂𝚃, 𝙰𝚂 𝙰𝙻𝚆𝙰𝚈𝚂 𝚆𝙷𝙴𝙽 𝚂𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝚂𝚃𝙾𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚂. 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃 𝙸𝚂 𝙱𝚁𝙾𝙺𝙴𝙽 𝚆𝙷𝙴𝙽 𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝙵𝙻𝙸𝙲𝙺𝚂 𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙵𝙸𝙽𝙸𝚂𝙷𝙴𝙳 𝙲𝙸𝙶𝙰𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴 𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙾𝚆 – 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚁𝙾𝚄𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙴 𝙱𝚈 𝙽𝙾𝚆, 𝙸𝚃 𝙰𝙻𝚆𝙰𝚈𝚂 𝙸𝚂 – 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙱𝙾𝚃𝙷 𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙳𝚂 𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽 𝚃𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚠𝙷𝙴𝙴𝙻. 𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙷𝚁𝚄𝙶𝚂.

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚜𝚊𝚢, 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚞𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝙽𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚊���𝚔 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 – 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚋𝚢 𝙶𝚘𝚍. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝙸 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚘. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚊𝚛, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛?

𝙹𝚄𝚂𝚃 𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴 𝙰𝙻𝚆𝙰𝚈𝚂, 𝙱𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙴 𝙸𝚂 𝚄𝙽𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙰𝙻𝙻𝚈 𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙼 𝙰𝙵𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚂𝙴 𝚃𝙰𝙻𝙺𝚂 – 𝙼𝙾𝙽𝙾𝙻𝙾𝙶𝚄𝙴𝚂, 𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙴 𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴 – 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚄𝙶𝙷 𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙴𝚈𝙴𝚂 𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝙵𝙸𝚇𝙴𝙳 𝙾𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚁𝙾𝙰𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚃𝙻𝙴 𝚂𝙼𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙻𝙻 𝙷𝙰𝚂𝙽’𝚃 𝙻𝙴𝙵𝚃 𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙻𝙸𝙿𝚂. 𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚂 𝙾𝚅𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝙾 𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚅𝙾𝙻𝚄𝙼𝙴 𝚄𝙿 𝙰 𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚃𝙻𝙴.

𝙲𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚠 – 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 ‘𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 ‘𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚊’? ‘𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚎’? 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚎 ‘𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚎𝚛 ‘𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕’ 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍.

𝙾𝚑, 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚍𝚢𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚔𝚒𝚍.

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