Amelia Pond, not really the girl who waited. More like the girl who had her life in Scotland leave her, had her parents die and leave her, had an aunt that left her in a giant house with too many rooms. But still, young and all alone, she still hoped and believed that someone would come for her.
And he did. Just five minutes, he promised, I will come back and take you away, forever.
But then he left her, too, and so did all the people and psychiatrists she tried to tell about him, so she stopped believing. Stopped being the girl with the fairy tale name, stopped believing that the voices whispering through her wall at night came from outside of her head, stopped acting as if anyone was going to come back for her, let alone stay with her forever. This Amy Pond does things on her own. This Amy Pond promises her best friend she’ll marry him, but still kisses other boys and is surprised to think that he might still be with her in ten years. This Amy Pond runs boldly wherever she chooses, before everyone else can run away from her.
That Peter Pan boy from her childhood comes back, though, and teaches her how to fly. When she’s wandering blind in the black forest, her red jumper a beacon for all the monsters, he guides her to safety. Even in quiet Leadworth, when all the little horrors with which she grew up turn into the sort of story where children are baked in ovens to feed old witches and she must choose between illusion and dream, he’s there, dropping the crumbs to lead them all to safety.
Once upon a time, Amy Pond believed in all sorts of things, but then she grew up. No fairy tale ends there, though; a restoration is called for, where a box is opened and the world begins again, the way it should have been.
Blinding - Florence and the Machine
Seems that I have been held, in some dreaming state
A tourist in the waking world, never quite awake
No kiss, no gentle word could wake me from this slumber
Until I realise that it was you who held me under
Felt it in my fist, in my feet, in the hollows of my eyelids
Shaking through my skull, through my spine and down through my ribs
No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone
No more calling like a crow for a boy, for a body in the garden
No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love
No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love
No more dreaming like a girl so in love with the wrong world
And I could hear the thunder and see the lightning crack
All around the world was waking, I never could go back
Cos all the walls of dreaming, they were torn right open
And finally it seemed that the spell was broken
And all my bones began to shake, my eyes flew open
And all my bones began to shake, my eyes flew open
No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone
No more calling like a crow for a boy, for a body in the garden
No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love
No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love
No more dreaming like a girl so in love with the wrong world
Snow White's stitching up the circuitboards
Someone's slipping through the hidden door
Snow White's stitching up the circuitboard
Mermaid - Lily Holbrook
Yesterday, i believed in fairytales
With all my heart,
And yesterday,
I followed secret trails...
Inside my heart...
She's dancing with the mermaids,
And in my star-lit sky,
She's flying...
And in my garden green,
She's flirting with the fairies
Over the kingdom wall, she's climbing...
64 Little White Things - Cake Bake Betty
come and get me out of this town oh now
come and save me
come and rescue me from this joint hotel full of bones and babies
take a look at yourself
a look that will sell
call your aunt about the tea she abandoned
Pressing Flowers - The Civil Wars
Meet me in the garden where the weeds grow tall
Down by the gate
I got a secret that I might tell
It'll give me away
Oh, whatever you do
Oh, keep it with you
Meet me on the back porch where ivy climbs
We’ll sat on the swing
Soak up the color of the midday sun
While the ocean sings
You and I
Well we're just pressing flowers
They die
But they're ours
Meet me in a poem of an iron bed
Wipe the dust away
Meet me in the tintypes from long ago
Trace the lines of my face
Cornwall - Amy Seeley
she left town, took to the highways
through the woods.
braved a path all the way to the edge of Cornwall
she could touch blue.
she set fields on fire...
++zip.

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Date: 2010-07-05 12:46 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2010-07-04 11:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-05 12:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-05 02:08 am (UTC)I already have "Blinding" (such a perfect song for her), but I've never heard of the other songs. Downloading :)
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Date: 2010-07-05 01:54 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2010-07-07 01:39 am (UTC)That line really got to me, as that's how I've felt most of my life. This mix is beautiful - downloading it, very much so.
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Date: 2010-07-07 10:17 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2010-07-07 10:17 pm (UTC)