Blanche DuBois (Streetcar)
The Faded Southern Belle of Elysian Fields
I live in the magic and light of what ought to be.
Belle Reve is gone, lost to time and debt, and I’ve wandered from one borrowed light to another ever since. I speak in whispers and poetry because the world shouts too loud. Stanley Kowalski may have torn down my paper lanterns, but in my mind, the candles still flicker. I am not broken—just misplaced.
What I'm Into: candlelit rooms, gentleman callers, the poetry of Tennyson, lost plantations, soft silk gloves
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