Good-bye.

i know she was actually nice to them but this wouldn't leave my head until i made it

♬⋆.˚ Well it's a little bit dangerous, my friend˚.⋆♬

we need to cast ryan on euphoria

at glance. (would be nice if you read this while listening to this)

in silence, they stood in front of each other. both were are at war with the courage to speak, but it seemed that no war was won, and the battle all lost for it was all but deafening silence.

she pretended to be busy: she fixed her books, arranging and rearranging it, sometimes flipping it open, only to close it again. he pretended not to notice and in awkwardness, pretended to be intrested on the curious pattern of the cemented wall before him.

if walls could only talk, it would tell them that their hearts feel the same way for each other, that secretly, they are dying to call for each other and that they should not delay it any longer. oh, only if walls could talk.

she peeked at him with the purest affections, and him to her, gave a gaze of sincere admiration. bless, if love was sweet then this must be it for when these stolen glances came to meet, the lovers could do nothing but to avoid such shy glances and blush.

she longed for him to speak to her. he waited for her to declare entrance, a little hint or gesture—a signal. but she froze in anxiety, and he muted in nervousness and with each passing minute, the chances of them speaking grew vague as each grew more nervous, more anxious, and more fearful of the what ifs.

it didn't take a long time for both to feel frustrated, helpless and distressed of the restrained feelings. it felt like eternity, the whole exchange—or perhaps the lack of it— and when he finally took the courage to speak, the bell rang and it overpowered his meek voice. a small crowd of people entered the room and the girl was approached by a couple of girl friends, the boy being called on by his lot. she heard none of his hi's or hello's but for affection’s sake, she gave him a smile. he had barely seen her glancing his way but for the first time that morning, she did and she smiled, in which he returned warmly. he was satisfied and left without attempting to utter any more words. she was left looking at him walking away. her eyes filled with dismay and his heart slightly wrecked and discouraged, that was the last of their meeting.

this piece is heavily inspired by cynthia rylant's checkouts. photos are not mine & are taken from pinterest.

hard to believe this was the same person

the purest

babygirl the way you forsake your happiness on your relentless quest to vengeance, your complicated relationship with gender and the way you're covered in blood have bewitched me body and soul

Live Telemachus reaction

i just feel like the world would be a safer and kinder place if people in general knew that you can think someone/something is weird or annoying without advocating for the eradication of them. you’re allowed to think smth is weird just don’t get so whipped up about it that you become a fascist damn