I like him best because he loves the person I am in front of my failings and behind societal conventions. (I don’t sometimes, even when no one is around. Laughing at my own weird noises and jokes just isn’t cute after the first five thousand times.)
We were going through his million trophies while clearing his room, most of them for running. I own no trophies, and meekly confessed to routinely failing my annual 2.4km run. I was small and skinny but couldn’t carry my weight across the finish line in under twenty minutes. YES I AM PATHETIC
He cupped my face in his hands and laughed for a full minute before wrapping his arms around my head. Far from humiliated, I felt precious and laughed a little bit too.
I like you the most because you love my personalised failings as much as you inspire my strengths.
I will remember you most as the genie. I can never imagine him dead, with the infinite amount of life you gave him.
I’ve been functioning with so much anger recently. But less with power, built thinly by hits in the gut and lumps in the throat. The fury collapses quickly making a weak and crumpled barrier.
I had to redo this school video thing today aaaaand I admit I liked the hair pulled and pinned up. It made me feel some Downton Abbey elegance, with the ‘Lady’ title thrown in. Although I didn’t care much for the dress I was given, where is my beautiful gown from the nineteen hundreds?
So after bad bathroom photos were taken for sentimental documentation I spent the rest of the night getting snapshots of my beloved Chitoge Kirisaki. Here she is accurately depicting what happens when I’m thrown into darkness.
A group of cocoa bean farmers in the Ivory Coast have never had the opportunity to eat chocolate made from cocoa beans. Until now.
I hope to one day bring such joy in another’s life.
Dry air forced through upturned lips
presents me nonchalant and carefree.
Closed and silent are the insecurities
too shallow to voice, too weak to justify
but to the sensitive heart,
I look for inspiration too often now. I think I fly most in movies, long and heartfelt stories. I’m brought into whatever they’re feeling but then it ends and I have to leave. Being a spectator isn’t quite enough anymore.
I headed home after class and found the amazing boy wrapped up in bed watching suits.
After years of monthly upsets you only get better at selflessly turning bad nights around. You’re the absolute best and terribly adorable.
Everything I was excited for today pretty much fell apart, including the dark chocolate milkshake that was supposed to make everything better. Trying to make my own didn’t come through either because my mum’s (now regular) breezy but pressing jibes came earlier than I thought and for today it was just one too many. I’m starving and unintentionally came across a list of hot fudge sundaes while passing time reading redundant articles online. Not sure if the universe is helping me the way photos of food did when I went on the crazy crash diet years ago (looking as a substitute for eating), or rubbing the unattainable treats in my face with all the spite I met with today.
Also, I’ve become a bad student. Not Hermione anymore, motivation for anything, gone. I think this is what jaded is. I’m trying to get out of it, believe me.
I really enjoyed people watching at the main train station. It was cold, lots of people smiled when they caught me looking.