It’s hard to believe 58 years to the day, on the night of August 4th, the world’s most famous Star would leave us all. Yes, I know a lot of you will be thinking, “wait, didn’t she die on the 5th?” – she was found in the early hours of that morning, and her death was announced then – so that is the “technical” date. However, as with many Marilyn “facts” that too is incorrect and so like every year, I will be posting this on the 4th.
I’m not going to write about all the ridiculous dramas and he said she said statements that have grown rapidly over the years, as they don’t deserve any more coverage. Whenever a major celebrity dies, the more shocking the statement, the more attention it gains, so much so that it’s almost became ingrained into society as being accepted as fact. But, I am going to have a big name and shame moment for the two main culprits – Robert Slatzer and Norman Mailer I’m looking at you both. Also Anthony Summers – you’re a piece of crap and I will never forgive you for publishing Marilyn’s autopsy photo in your toilet paper worthy biography.
Long story short as they don’t deserve any mention with Marilyn’s name – Slatzer created the whole Kennedy, Mafia and basically everything shit and defamatory written about Marilyn in the early 1970s. If you want to find out the actual truth with documented facts click HERE.
Sorry to disappoint any conspiracy lovers – Marilyn didn’t love JFK, nor did any of the Kennedy’s kill her, she died of an either accidental or intentional prescription drug overdose. Was I there? No, I wasn’t even alive, but it’s really not hard to disregard the nonsense and absurd claims, when you actually take the time to do a little (a lot in my case) of research.
Thankfully, I was lucky and never fell down that ridiculous rabbit hole in the first place. I discovered Marilyn whilst reading an article in Vanity Fair magazine almost ten years ago, discussing the then upcoming release of, Fragments: Poems, Intimate Notes, Letters by Marilyn Monroe.
This book is truly one of a kind and is basically a published archive of many of Marilyn’s personal letters, excerpts and anecdotes she had written from 1943 until 1962. Before anyone says it’s disrespectful to publish/share these and it is an invasion of privacy, to an extent I agree. However, as stated a few moment ago, with the amount of disrespectful, outrageous nonsense that has been slurred out over the half a century since Marilyn left us – I think it’s a necessity to see her own words in print. Ironically enough, it’s almost as if Marilyn herself foreshadowed the future of the media, when she said this in an Interview to Georges Belmont for Marie Claire Magazine in April 1960.
“The true things rarely get into circulation, it’s usually the false things.”
Therefore, today I have decided to focus on Marilyn herself, not as a Star, Tragic Icon or a pretty face, but as a human who had a beautiful, sensitive soul. Some of you may already know, but for those who don’t, Marilyn actually wrote numerous poems throughout her years, mostly just for herself. In her rare moments of confidence, she would occasionally show a few to her close friend, Writer Norman Rosten, who said the following in his (must have) book, Marilyn Among Friends.
“She had the instinct and reflexes of the poet, but she lacked the control.”
“Although she gave the appearance of being so confident and self assured, she was in reality incredibly self conscious and her own biggest critic, which is heartbreaking really as she was truly gifted. She was such a perfectionist that she would spend hours preparing herself mentally and physically for her beloved fans, regularly looking in the mirror at her perceived flaws. Marilyn was infamous for her lateness, which is often viewed as diva like behaviour. However, the reality is, it’s rarely noted that her anxiety was so severe, she would break out in rashes and even vomit, before going on set.
In her final interview with LIFE Magazine, published one day before her death, she even said to Journalist Richard Meryman,
“I’m one of the world’s most self conscious people. I really have to struggle.”
I remember the first time I looked through Fragments, of course it was very upsetting to see her pain written down and think about her suffering, However, I strongly noticed this recurring theme of hope, despite some incredibly sad notes, there was always some sparkle of inner strength and I just thought that should be said. Often we ourselves don’t see our bravery and bouts of determination in our inner self, but others do and I for one am glad I can see in Marilyn what she could not.
I love you with all of my heart Marilyn, from the moment you came into my life, a decade ago in October 2010. Wherever you may be, I hope you know how much love, joy and happiness you have brought and continue to bring to many people’s lives each day.
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• Undated Poem.
Life –
I am of both of your directions
Somehow remaining hanging downward
the most
but strong as a cobweb in the
wind – I exist more with the cold glistening frost.
But my beaded rays have the colors I’ve
seen in a painting – ah life
they have cheated you
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• Undated Poem shared with Norman Rosten and published in his book, Marilyn: An Untold Story.
To the Weeping Willow
I stood beneath your limbs
and you flowered and finally clung to me
and when the wind struck with.. the earth
and sand – you clung to me.
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• Undated Poem
Stones on the walk
every color there is
I stare down at you
like a horizon –
the space / the air is between us beckoning
and I am many stories up
my feet frightened
as I grasp towards you
______________________________________________________________________________
• Undated Poem
Only parts of us will ever
touch parts of others –
one’s own truth is just
that really – one’s own truth.
We can only share the
part that is within another’s knowing acceptable
so one
is for most part alone.
As it is meant to be in
evidently in nature – at best perhaps it could make
our understanding seek
another’s loneliness out.
______________________________________________________________________________
• Undated Poem
for life
It is rather a determination not to be overwhelmed.
for work
The truth can only be recalled, never invented
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• “Record” Black Notebook – Written in throughout 1951.
What I do believe in
What is truth
I believe in myself
even my most delicate
intangible feelings
in the end everything is
intangible
my most precious liquid must
never spill don’t spill your precious liquid
life force
they are all my feelings
no matter what
______________________________________________________________________________
• “Record” Black Notebook – Written in throughout 1951.
Fear of giving me the lines new
maybe won’t be able to learn them
maybe I’ll make mistakes
people will either think I’m no good or
laugh or belittle me or think I can’t act.
Women looked stern and critical –
unfriendly and cold in general
afraid director won’t think I’m any good.
remembering when I couldn’t do a god
damn thing.
then trying to build myself up with the
fact that I have done things right that
were even good and have had moments
that were excellent but the bad is heavier
to carry around and feel have no confidence
depressed mad
______________________________________________________________________________
• Other “Record” Notebook – Written in throughout 1955.
I do know ways people
act unconventionally – mainly
myself – do not be afraid of
my sensitivity or to use it – for I
can & will channel it + crazy thoughts too
I want to do my scene or exercises
(idiotic as they may seem)
as sincerely as I
can knowing and showing
how I know it is also – no
matter – what they might
think – or judge from it
______________________________________________________________________________
• Other “Record” Notebook – Written in throughout 1955.
I can and will help
myself and work on
things analytically no
matter how painful – if I
forget things (the unconscious
wants to
forget – I will only try to remember)
Discipline – Concentration
my body is my body
every part of it.
______________________________________________________________________________
• Other “Record” Notebook – Written in throughout 1955.
feel what I feel
within myself – that is trying to
become aware of it
also what I feel in others
not being ashamed of my
feeling, thoughts – or ideas
realize the thing that
they are –
______________________________________________________________________________
• Waldorf Astoria Stationery – Written in throughout 1955.
Sad, sweet trees –
I wish for you – rest
but you must be wakeful
______________________________________________________________________________
• Waldorf Astoria Stationery – Written in throughout 1955.
Not a scared
lonely little girl
anymore
Remember you can sit on top of the world (it doesn’t feel like it.)
You can have any help you want personally – or in your
work – or anything else you want –
There are technical ways to go about it
or problems – figure out if anything tec. can be done
about it because there are people to help you – gladly – you
more than most they want to help
Remember there is nothing you
lack – nothing to be self conscious about
yourself – you have everything but the discipline
and technique which you are learning & seeking
on your own –
after all nothing was or
is being given to you –
you have had none of this
work thrown your way
you sought it
– it didn’t seek you
Too much talent
Too much ability and
and much too much sensitivity to invert yourself
out of fear – not come to class –
or to do things like being afraid to come to
class or to get up.
______________________________________________________________________________
• “Italian Agenda” Notebook – Written throughout 1955 or 1956.
and the more
I think of
it the more
I realize there
are no answers
life is to be
lived
and since it is comparatively
so short – (maybe too short – maybe too long –
the only thing I know for sure, it isn’t easy
now that I want to live
and I feel suddenly not old
not concerned about previous
thing except to protect
myself – my life – and to
desperately (pray) tell
the universe I trust it
______________________________________________________________________________
• Parkside House Stationery – Written during her stay in England between July 14th – November 20th 1956.
I guess I have always been
deeply terrified to really be someone’s
wife
since I know from life
one cannot love another,
ever, really.
______________________________________________________________________________
• Roxbury Notes – Written throughout 1957 or 1958.
In every spring the green is too sharp – though the delicacy in their form is
sweet and uncertain – it puts up a good struggle in the wind
trembling all the while. Those leaves will relax, expand in the sun and each
raindrop they will resist even when they’re battered and ripped. I think I am
very lonely – my mind jumps. I see myself in the mirror now, brow furrowed –
if I lean close I’ll see – what I don’t want to know – tension, sadness,
disappointment, my eyes dulled, cheeks flushed with capillaries that look
like rivers on maps – hair lying like snakes. The mouth makes me the saddest
next to my dead eyes. There is a dark line between the lips in the outline of
several waves in a turbulent storm – it says don’t kiss me, don’t fool
me I’m a dancer who cannot dance.
______________________________________________________________________________
• Roxbury Notes – Written throughout 1957 or 1958.
re – relationships
Everyone’s childhood plays itself out
No wonder no one knows the other or can completely understand.
By this I don’t know if I’, just giving up with this conclusion or resigning
myself – or maybe for the first time connecting with reality –
how do we know the pain of another’s earlier years let alone
all that he drags with him since along the way at best a lot of lee-way is
needed for the other – yet how much is unhealthy for one to bear.
I think to love bravely is the best and accept – as much as one can bear.
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