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maud martha.

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[19 Apr 2020|12:50pm]



she would have liked a lotus, or china asters or the japanese iris, or meadow lilies -- yes, she would have liked meadow lilies, because the very word meadow made her breathe more deeply, and either fling her arms or want to fling her arms, depending on who was by, rapturously up to whatever was watching the sky. but dandelions were what she chiefly saw. yellow jewels for everyday, studding the patched green dress of her back yard. she liked their demure prettiness second to their everydayness; for in the latter quality she thought she saw a picture of herself, and it was comforting to find that what was common could also be a flower. brooks creates, then, a character who is common, and who is also, or who could also be a flower. she emphasizes the commonness of her protagonist while simultaneously exploring the elements of her life that are admirable, painful, powerful and fragile.

maud martha is well aware of her commonness, of her ordinariness. she consciously compares herself to the flower. thus when maud martha wonders about the beauty or admiration of the flower, she is wondering about her place in her own environment as well.

Description of Maud Martha - Gwendolyn Brooks.





ooc, storylines, confessions, vmails, texts, etc.

abigail p novak ◊ anovakbio ◊ pb freida pinto ◊ old harbor

LOCATION: BOSTON, MASS.

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[23 Mar 2009|11:30pm]
who / [info]anovak && [info]timclancy
when / monday, march 23, 2009
where / the lime - catching up after a year.
*player is applying, posting log for sake of application

stop the track, let me state facts i told you give me a minute and i'll be right back fifty million round the world and they said i couldn't get it i done got so sick and filthy with benji's, i can't spend it how you gone be talkin' shit? you act like i just got up in it been the number one diva in this game for a minute. na, na, na diva is a female version of a hustla, of a hustla, of a, of a hustla. na, na, na diva is a female version of a hustla, of a hustla, of a, of a hustla. )
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[04 Mar 2009|09:27pm]

Name: Abigail Panchali Novák
Age & DOB: March 14, 1985 (age 25)
AIM: abigail p novak, random ims welcome!
Occupation: Studio Director for an Architecture Firm.
Brief Biography: Abigail Novák was one of two miracles. Her parents, Edward and Nadiya, attempted to conceive a child for fifteen years before they were blessed with a set of twins on March 14, 1985 in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Edward and Nadiya indulged in the twins' every whim. It got to the point where they would not have to verbalize their wishes; their parents began to guess what it was a child of four, eight, and sixteen should have or would need. Descendents from a highly educated family the twins were guaranteed admission to Exeter and finally Princeton.

Having conceived late, her parents were put in an older age bracket than most of her peers. It was not that she was disinterested or callous; she was just used to being a certain type of person. Abigail had always received the world on a silver platter and in return she gave them what was expected: a model daughter. Her brother was no different. There was no benefit in rebellion for either of them. They received unconditional love, the material possessions teenagers craved and were widely admired by most adults.

The behavior, of course, set them apart from the majority of their classmates. Both Abigail and Alexander were ostracized and often the subject of high school mockery. The only time she found solace was in the comfort of her family and/or academics. Once enrolled in Princeton, Abigail swore to leave the past behind her and focus on a new beginning.

Too young and naïve to visibly note the difference, Abigail was introduced to a world based on passivity, disaffection and nihilism. None of which she understood or fully believed in, but the feeling of finally being accepted closeted her values and encouraged her to adapt the personal of her peers. Her life of limitless privilege was foot the bill of what they were looking for. She was lost in the dizzying spiral of relentless parties, seedy bars and mountains of cocaine.

It wasn’t until the night of January 16, 2004 that Abigail decided she couldn’t keep up with the charade.

It was night just like any other. Abigail was out with her friends drinking and pretending to snort blow. (She had tried it before, but the idea of being permanently disabled by it’s potency scared her. Her friends were often too high to note the difference.) As the party began to thin out, Abigail hadn’t noticed her company had dwindled down to her least favorite persons of the group Felix, the residential creep and their dealer, and his sidekick Oliver. She made a quick excuse to leave, but the moment she second she was on her feet Oliver was in front of her. The next few minutes were nothing more than a blur of struggle. Faces illuminated through the fog. Most of them were people Abigail had noted to be her friends, none of them offered assistance--as she had done so many times when they were too drunk or high to function--instead, they rallied Felix’s efforts. She could taste her tears.

Rage, hurt and fear swelled inside her. It empowered her to fight back. She managed to get away several times, but her friends refused to let her penetrate the circle. Just let him do it, Abigail. Just let him. Their voices echo in her mind. No. No. No. Felix tackled her from behind and the two of them crashed onto the coffee table. He rolled her around limp, bruised and cut up. His pants were already past his knees. There was a crack among the cheers and Felix collapsed on top of her. Screams filled the room as a warmth began to blanket her, seeping through her clothes.

She closed her eyes begging for it to all be over. What happened next was unexpected. A hand reached out and rolled Felix’s lifeless body off her. Then two appeared to lift her and carry her above the crowd. It was like God himself had come down to save her. She was loaded into a car. “Where do you want to go?” Asked the man.

Just take me home, she whispered.

Abigail slept the entire ride home. When he pulled up to her parents house (via directions she had never given) her parents were waiting. No questions were asked. She was simply advised to go upstairs and get cleaned up, they had mass in a few hours.

Abigail never returned to Princeton after that night. She dropped out and finished out the semester at home, under the close supervision of her parents. They never talked about what happened or who her savior was. It was as if it was all just a bad dream. A dream she wore the scars of, but a dream none the less.

The following fall she was enrolled in Smith College, where her mother taught part time. It was the safest way for her to continue her education while being closely watched. For the second time in her life academics became her safety net and she graduated with a double major in Economics and International Relations in 2007. She still resigns close to home out of both fear and security. She left for six months for an internship in Santa Barbara, but jumped onboard the first transfer to Massachusetts, where she lives once again.


Facts:
x. Panchali means Princess in Hindi.
x. Multi-Lingal. Speaks Spanish, French, and Arabic. Can also speak Hindi, but reserves that her family and relatives, and even then she’s weary.
x. “Athletic” – Loves kick boxing, swimming, belly dancing, running, and sleeping.
x. Drives a Range Rover while pretending to care about the environment.
x. Adores her twin brother, Alexander, and remains extremely close to him.
x. Has been to India on several occasions; moderately enjoys going back to “home”.
x. Jams to Hip-Hop/R&B, Pop, and Jazz music depending on her mood.
x. Has been clean since her sophomore year of college and refuses to turn back, or at least that’s what she keeps telling herself.
x. More Coming Soon!

Faces: Coming Soon!

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