[take a deep breath.]
Close your eyes.
Listen to your heartbeat.
Feel it pulse.
These words are my heartbeats that have wandered astray, the words I can't say aloud.
Take my words to heart.
~ Azkaban no longer uses Dementors as guardians.
~George Weasley married Angelina Johnson and had 2 children named Fred and Roxanne.
~Harry made sure that the Wizarding world knew that Snape was a hero and on Dumbledore’s side.
~Slytherin House became more diluted and…
I made a series of Calming Bunnies (based off of the Calming Manatee meme) for my friend Gab, who isn’t a huge fan of manatees!
We can always use more bunnies, I think.
THE FIRST IS A QUOTE FROM IROH
CAN’T GET SHIT PASSED ME
Kirsty Mitchell’s late mother Maureen was an English teacher who spent her life inspiring generations of children with imaginative stories and plays. Following Maureen’s death from a brain tumour in 2008, Kirsty channelled her grief into her passion for photography.
She retreated behind the lens of her camera and created Wonderland, an ethereal fantasy world. The photographic series began as a small summer project but grew into an inspirational creative journey.
‘Real life became a difficult place to deal with, and I found myself retreating further into an alternative existence through the portal of my camera,’ said the artist. (read the rest here).
So there I was, sitting there, listening to you talk, watching your features so honest and strong as you tell me that you trust him, that you know better, that he would never do exactly what he did.
I watch you speak words like “always”, “forever”, “endless”, and “boundless”, yet I know better. “Always” isn’t perpetual. “Forever” is over. “Endless” reached its end. “Boundless” has met its bound. I know that if you knew, you would wonder why.
It’s you. It’s him. It’s me. It had to happen - was bound to happen eventually.
I didn’t break any rules *too* much. I left the romance, the flowers, the wooing, the ring for you. I left the emotion and feeling and security for you. I didn’t even steal a slow dance or lie down in his arms.
What did I keep? I wonder as much as you do what I kept. His time? His attention? His thoughts?
I kept his stares, his little touches. I kept his little jokes, his tiny phrases and gestures. I kept the look on his face and the scent of his skin. I kept the warm timbre of his voice shivering down my spine. I kept the feeling of his lips on mine.
Most of all, I kept him. I didn’t mean to, I promise, I swear. I kept the feelings he sent swirling through my stomach. I kept the strength of his hand grasped around my soul. I kept his claim on me. I kept him. I’m sorry. My god. I am so sorry. You’ll never know how much I’ll never be able to forgive myself. I am so, so very sorry.
This sucks. Completely and totally sucks.
I want to cry. I want to hate myself. I want to die. It hurts. I can’t even feel remorse. Or guilt. Just loathing. Loathing and wanting and pain. Unbearable, intolerable pain.
"Sometimes the only thing you can do is get high and listen to dubstep in your bathtub."
|2:||Every time Adam is wrong.|
|3:||Every time they drink/do drugs.|
|5:||Montez talks about having sex with his wife.|
|6:||Every time they sing.|
|8:||Every time no one listens to Jillian.|
|9:||"LET'S GET WEIRD!"|