This..this…is…instant love. *A*
OH I THOUGHT IT WAS A PHOTO I LITERALLY DID A DOUBLE TAKE
saw this a lot on my dash earlier but kept forgetting to reblog ;;
*DOES SO NOW* gosh dang this is so beautifullll~
Holy mother of god…
Did I already reblog this? If so, reblogging it again. DEAL WITH IT.
Hi I did this!
It should be easy to apologize to you, Catrina.
The hard part is getting you to accept it.
Since I’ve known you I’ve wanted to be close.
It took me just a few moments of engaging with you and
progressive exchanges to see that close wouldn’t suffice
and I’d need to be the closest person to you in life to be
satisfied and even then…
Those days it seemed so hard to get to you, even with
our daily written strolls, I felt like I would grasp for your
hand and come back with it feeling more empty than it
was to begin with.
I cravenly bended and ached for you. Then and now.
I wish I stayed true and wasn’t a coward. I wish I had
been stronger and not sought frivolous and safe levity in
They were and are meaningless, at least to me.YOU
brought the best out of me and I’m ashamed that other
people heard the notes, and eyed the words and things
that were meant for you. I put no effort into writing
because I’d left it all for you—all I had were a pile of
letters and the weight of sentiments that I hoped would
buoy you.I took advantage of the work my muse had led
me to articulate.
This seems my worst offense. If they had only known that
they were a beneficiary by means of misplaced adoration…
If I only let you know, again, and again and again, that you
filled the crevasses of my mind and left no room in my heart…
…I wouldn’t feel so ashamed.
I fought to keep you near. I lied, not only to you but to
others who didn’t need to be lied to despite their worth.
I regret this.
I regret not staying with you.
And I definitely regret whatever came in between.
Yours are the letters, yours are the poems, yours are the
songs, yours is my soul and heart.
Forgive me everyday if you have to because I don’t know
what I’d do without.
Just seeing if I can…post…this…hyea
For all the people who write or
speak in a venture to find and
demonstrate the full and plump
sounding possibilities of words.
I’ll do better, next time
I’ve been looking for this movie on and off whenever it’s bounded into my brain and I could only describe it as “the movie with the monster in the closet…it would come on USA’s Up All Night hosted by Gilbert Gottfried and Rhonda Shear?” Google decided to smile upon me today—now I need to talk someone into watching with me.
I was, after the fashion of humanity, in love with my name, and, as young educated people commonly do, I wrote it everywhere. –Goethe