Oscar Nominee Rooney Mara Talks Cate Blachett and her role in ‘Carol’
Peter Travers: When Carol walks in, she’s Cate Blanchett but she’s dressed
by Sandy Powell. She’s like this perfect example of glamorous femininity and
you are sort of poleaxed by it. You’re looking at it saying, 'What is
this?’ ( link )
Dearest. There are no accidents and he would have found us one way or another. Everything comes full circle. Be grateful it was sooner rather than later. You’ll think it harsh of me to say so, but no explanation I offer will satisfy you.
Please don’t be angry when I tell you that you seek resolutions and explanations because you’re young. But you will understand this one day. And when it happens, I want you to imagine me there to greet you like the morning sky, our lives stretched out ahead of us, a perpetual sunrise. But until then, there must be no contact between us. I have much to do, and you, my darling, even more. Please believe that I would do anything to see you happy and so I do the only thing I can - I release you.
It just feels like bleeding. Your voice, blurred.
I’m scratching you off of me, big fat flakes of skin
falling to the ground like snowflakes, dandruff,
salt. They don’t tell you, or they do, and you laugh
because who would ever believe something so
impossible? We are holding hands until suddenly
we aren’t, and all of those unanswered texts
from the wrong, hopeful boys. I want anonymous sex
out in the open, clean panties, shaved legs,
a bowl of fresh fruit. Is it so much to ask to just want
someone to lay on top of me? I think boys like it best
when we beg–so shiver, so pretend, so spit. Once,
I saw a movie where a woman said My mouth
is for my marriage and I thought how hopeful;
what an entirely perfect thought. There are so many ways
to be cruel to each other. Not holding a door or a taxi
for someone coming is probably my number one.
You break my heart and I love you already, again.
I am cross-eyed over it. My father fears I will get killed
whenever I leave the house. What he doesn’t know
is that I’ve been living outside of my skin for months,
and I don’t think I could Google my way back. I sing
until I am asked by an overemotional stranger
to please shut the fuck up.