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Sebold references sunshine in other parts of the novel, and it during these references that Abigail is in her happiest, truest form. Susie tells that when Jack used to bring Abigail marigolds, “her face would light up yellowy in delight” (153). This “yellowy delight” shows how truly happy Abigail was, and it is representative of pure bliss and pure Abigail as herself.
You advised me to organize my essay source by source, and although I wasn’t entirely sold, you explained it well and it made sense to me. I could start with Jay-Z and Tricia Rose to set up what hip-hop is, transition into Hill to show homophobia in hip-hop, talk about Macklemore’s website, and then work my way into the song and music video, tying everything together as I went.
I don’t write because I am too tired. Too tired to process thoughts and put them into words and onto a page. When my brain is mush and my mind is so exhausted that it can’t even stay in one place long enough to identify an idea to commit to words, I don’t write. I can’t write.
The Big House. My homecoming dress from junior year of high school. The veins so clearly seen on the inside of my wrist that carry deoxygenated blood. My physics notebook. The stripes on the shirt I’m wearing as I write this, the flowers on my scarf, and the pencil with which I am handwriting this. Blue—all of these things are blue.
I don’t write for the same reason that many others do—because pretty words come to mind that cannot go unwritten or because the scene at the coffee shop from earlier that morning was so inspiring or because there is a little journal always within reach that begs to be written in. No, I write mostly because I have to. I realize that’s not sweet-sounding or inspiring in any way, but that is the truth. I only write when writing is required of me, and that is the pure simplicity of it all.