#reminiscent grieving
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#narky thinks#narky has questionable tastes#... it's profound#i don't know how to explain it#it's sad... but it's also bittersweet#reminiscent grieving#as if recalling memories while also letting them go#people can shed tears to this#i... get it#on a deep and intimate level#Youtube
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i brought him over with me, you know. we sailed together under avery when we was kids. he was my first bunkmate. and for years, he went on how he'd got this huge stash, hidden away. and i should live to survive him, because one day, i will be a rich man. but as you know...we lost him on the pembroke. so i open his locker and what do i find? twelve pesos. a busted pocket watch. and a letter with instructions to deliver it to his sister in new york. lying sack of shit! was mister craig. so: i bought the boys a round with the pesos, traded the pocket watch for a bit of tail, and spent two weeks that winter in new york trying to deliver that fucking letter to his sister. looked high and low. never found her. so on the way home, i waited until we were in open water and i could see no land in any direction. and i dropped it over the side. returned to the sea...there are no legacies in this life, are there? no monuments. no...history. just the water. it pays us, and then it claims us. swallows us whole. if you EVEN care
#one of the speeches of the show for me#i mean it's the monologue show and they're all pretty good but this is one of the lesser monologues#not a high political treatise or a truth about love or whatever#just an old guy reminiscing about a dead guy with a man he imagines will soon also be dead#i always forget until i get to it that the Craig Drinks Piss story turns into Grieving Dad's Sadtime Storyhour#so it always hits me exactly like it's new#black sails#q
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You still think it's not your fault?
MASTER POST
Asks Start 💙🐶
Previous 💙🐶
Next 💜🩷
#lego monkie kid#lego monkie kid fanart#monkie kid#monkie kid fanart#lmk#lmk fanart#lmk mayor#monkie kid mayor#blue and violet#if only they had been a better servent#if only they were perfect#oh... if only#but thats all just naive thinking isn't it#what has done has been done and so now all the Mayor can do is mourn their lady#reminisce on what they should have done#feel disappointed in what they had been and cry over why they had not#whoever you are anon I hope you are happy putting Mayor in a spiral of thoughts#this is probably the bargaining stage of grief being shown here lol#honestly I should have probably written more segments of Mayor just straight up grieving#give them some more moments of depression and definitely barganing#I already wrote am anger segment with the ehru#eh who knows I'll work it out somehow
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My niche Keith Kogane headcanon is that "Thief" by Imagine Dragons from the Smoke + Mirrors (Deluxe) album is HIS song, no if ands or buts, it just screams mullet emo 'delinquent' in the desert bonus with space motifs. If you told me it was written by the angsty fuck himself I'd totally believe you lmao
#i listen to this song and all i can think of is pre-s1 keith with that fuckass bandana running around in the desert looking for#canyon drawings and grieving the old times when he'd go racing and stargazing with pre-Kerb Shiro🥲#or even further his dad#shit i think it could applied to post S2 Keith reminiscing about early and pre-Voltron time in general#mans has gone through so many life-altering events😭 id be an emo bitch too tbh#mine#vld#keith kogane#vld keith#if someone doesn't make an amv for this damn song where the first verse shots are ep 1-3 s1 keith angsting about pre-kerb and second verse#is s2 after BOM trials about early s1 voltron an earth when things were simpler and they didn't have the entire universe on their shoulders#then i fucking will damn it#“back when i was unafraid just like a thief” cuts to him breaking out shiro with that stupid bandana#“from desert heat to cobbled street from broken home to the city beat” are obviously clips going back and forth from him searching the#the desert and his little shack paralleld with tiny keith in the garrison and then later in the castle of lions#“all the heights that i could reach” is OBVIOUSLLLLY either shots in space or his stupid dive trick with the smirk on his hoverbike#“if i could live a thousand times if i could make a thousand tries oh maybe then id get it right” is OBVIOUSLY space whale flashbacks to#losing shiro and his dad and getting in trouble at the garrison or even his half galra angst in s2#“when the stars look down on me what do they see?” come on its VOLTRON theres so much potential there with their fights in space AND#being a pilot at the garrison#okay im done now lmao anyway its a good song and its very keith coded#honestly could apply to multiple paladins but i think the desert and theif lines specifically make sense for him
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I saw your friends for the first time in years.
It was another funeral. It was hard to be there. It seems funerals are the only place old friends show up for each other now.
I spoke to Joey, he said that after your death, your old friend group fell apart.
They rarely see each other now. Three years without you and things are still so different. He wished it brought them all closer, I wished that too. It's the least we could do for you now.
Being around them yesterday only showed to me the depth of your absence. I remember being a little girl, always wanting to hang out with you and them. The "big kids" The "cool teenagers" You guys were everything I thought was cool. I was just the silly little sister back then.
But now I am around them. But you're not here. They're getting engaged now. They're settled in their full time jobs now. They're moving out of state now. They're hanging out together now, just like you'd be doing all the time as kids. And my heart breaks again to realize how much you missed in your twenty eight year life..
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Chuuya and Guitars (Stormbringer Spoilers(?))
Chuuya headcanons my friends~
Chuuya really likes to play the guitar, he likes how it sounds from the gentle rumbles to the smooth riffs. Contrary to popular belief, he likes most of all to play gentle melodies on the guitar, the types that soothe his soul in a way he didn’t realize he needed.
But he only really feels like playing the guitar when he’s at the beach, strangely enough. There was something relaxing about sitting on a big rock by the water, enjoying a gentle breeze as a slow and calming song is played on the guitar. It’s one of the easiest ways for him to relax and the fastest as he isn’t the kind of person who relaxes often nor easily.
(Manga Spoiler below the cut)
Before the flags died, once every two weeks they would all find some time to go to the beach, Chuuya would be playing his guitar while the rest either relaxed or messed around. Of course, he’d join them too, but most times, he was happy to just sit around and play.
Doc and Iceman were the ones who usually sat around to listen. Albatross would drag Lippman into playing volleyball or play in the water with him and Pianoman would go either way depending on his mood.
There was always one specific beach that they went to where the waves were a bit bigger than normal and the sand was white; they’d set up an umbrella, chairs, towels and Lippman and Chuuya would bring food that they made in baskets, Albatross would bring a ball, frisbee and a swan floatie that they all tried to fit on once before. Iceman would bring the alcohol and other drinks in a cooler, Doc would bring glasses for those drinks. Pianoman would play music on the rare occassions that Chuuya wasn’t playing his guitar and he’d be the one taking pictures of them, mostly for Lippman who liked to take pictures of these moments but often forgot to as he’d get distracted.
After their death, in honor of them Chuuya did not stop going to that beach. He goes there once every two weeks and play his guitar, he’d set up the chairs, umbrella and towels like they always did, he’d bring a ball sometimes to bounce around with his ability, he’d bring a frisbee to toss around, hell he got a floatie to float around in. Chuuya got that same cooler, that same alcohol and other beverages to place in it and he’d pour himself a glass of wine that floated at his side; he made sandwiches and a fruit salad to eat. and he’d play the guitar.
He played his favorite songs and sit there for hours on that rock, the scene he lived many times before recreated for himself, alone and lonely. He’d play a few songs and then played some more, all the way until the sun began to set, then he’d pack up his things and leave and wait for the next two weeks to pass so he can do it all again.
This wasn’t a private beach by any means so more often than not, children would come running, asking if they could use his toys or listen to him play the guitar. He didn’t mind any of it, it reminded him of the days when that scene was livelier. When he didn’t feel as though he had been robbed of his most prized possessions, the bond he had made with them.
There were times when fellow mafioso would stumble upon him at that beach. He never said anything, and they’d never say anything either. Most times he was left alone, in fear of what he’d do to them if they interrupted. Other times, there was something of a silent understanding that as long as you did not lose or break anything of his than he did not care what you did or what you are there for.
Some people he knew very well would find him. Akutagawa, Gin, Tachihara, Hirotsu, Higuchi; they’ve all seen him and spent time with him, either playing with the toys or listening to the vibrato of his string instrument. He’s been caught by the agency and while there was some alarm there, Chuuya never did anything to them, he honored his friends’ deaths so he would honor this routine and it didn’t take long for the Agency to realize he meant no harm and even there, there was a mutual understanding that in that time, they would not fight.
No one really knew why he did all this. Only Ranpo and Dazai managed to guess why. For Ranpo, this gained Chuuya a level of respect from the older. It went unsaid and mostly ignored between the two that Ranpo knew everything. It wasn’t like he had any use for the information anyway.
Dazai had mixed feelings about it. In the past, he would have teased Chuuya for it, made a lot of noise, insult his playing and distract him just to piss him off, but as someone who knew what it was like to grieve and grieve for years over someone dear, he understood the feeling as even to this day, he routinely visited Bar Lupin and ordered a whiskey on the rocks, the last drink he had with Odasaku. It was an understanding that they both acknowledged and said nothing about.
He’d always grieve the death of the Flags; but he refused to let it consume his life so at the same that this was an honor to them, it was a release for him, so that he could remember to let go of the pain in his chest. He’d never truly get over it, but he knew how to manage it.
And if Adam ever visited him, just for a day. Then he told no one.
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Wow, okay that was supposed to be a headcanon but I went off, whoops-
Enjoy?
#bsd#bungo stray dogs#bsd headcanons#stormbringer#chuuya nakahara#chuuya headcanons#Dazai Osamu#the flags#port mafia#armed detective agency#manga spoilers#chuuya plays the guitar#chuuya likes the beach#this was a lot for absolutely no reason#grieving#reminiscing#adam frankenstein
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Alright, here goes. I'm old. What that means is that I've survived (so far) and a lot of people I've known and loved did not. I've lost friends, best friends, acquaintances, co-workers, grandparents, mom, relatives, teachers, mentors, students, neighbors, and a host of other folks. I have no children, and I can't imagine the pain it must be to lose a child. But here's my two cents.
I wish I could say you get used to people dying. I never did. I don't want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don't want it to "not matter". I don't want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can't see.
As for grief, you'll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you're drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it's some physical thing. Maybe it's a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it's a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.
In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don't even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you'll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what's going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything...and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life.
Somewhere down the line, and it's different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O'Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you'll come out.
Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don't really want them to. But you learn that you'll survive them. And other waves will come. And you'll survive them too. If you're lucky, you'll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks.
-GSnow (Reddit comment)
#grief#grief comes in waves#I'm still grieving my dog#reminiscing#love#my dog#reddit#waves#feels#feelings#sappy#death#share#gem
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Man, I miss my team. From Hisui, I mean.
Have I talked about Hugo yet? He was an alpha Bibarel, so he was like, HUGE. As big as a small bed give or take. He’d hog my futon all the time but he was adorable so it was fine.
I wish I still had all those photos I got taken of him and my other ‘mons, but the only one I managed to hold onto was that one of Ignis. There was one of my entire team I had hung up in my quarters- I wonder if it’s still out there somewhere. If it is I hope it’s still in tact… I’d like to see their faces again. Even if it’s just in photograph form.
#(( might post a lot of auberi reminiscing on Hisui stuff ))#(( bc I’ve been replaying PLA so I’m having Hisui brainrot ))#pokeblogging#pokemon irl#pokeblog rp#pokemon#pokemon oc#pokemon rp#rival auberi#pokeirl#pkmn irl#pkmn rp#tw grieving#tw grief#tw death#<- implied
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#I feel like I’m getting to the stage of grief where thinking about angus’s death doesn’t hurt quite as much#and it does make me a bit mad and a tad scared#but also… I never knew him in real life but yet he was a constant ‘fixture’ in my life#and ill feel pain about his death and random things about him but it doesn’t hurt as much and idk… it hurts#I want to continue to be sad about his death but I know it’s fruitful to continue to do so due to the parasocial relationship issues#like today I kinda laughed reminiscing about the Sunday spottings and watching all them waiting to see if he’d show up and when he would#we’d all be like ohh that’s insane he’s famous enough to be part of the deuxmoi Sunday spottings#or the time my speculation about him and dru made for a blind about him#man… it’s still so hard to believe it’s been over a fucking month since he left earth#and yet i still vividly remember everything about that day and how that date will forever mare my future feelings#wish he was still here#anyways#just thought I’d update my grieving process incase others needed something or felt the same way and as a way to just give words to stuff#and like block me if you hate me now with my bs ramblings
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the end of an era
Warning(s): Loss of parents, grief
Word Count: 1235
Character(s): Damian Green
Summary: Damian returns to his parents’ home after his father passes away. Takes place in 1996.
Using the following prompts by @creativepromptsforwriting:
Prompt #112: use the words sigil, secret, and sorrow
Prompt #84: use the words orange, spices, and sweetness
Prompt #269: There is a common saying about the calm before the storm. But no one ever talks about the deafening silence after the storm hit.
Permission to reblog, @creativepromptfills.
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For the first time in a while, Damian had a weekend off. He was certainly grateful for it, but now it meant he had some free time to finish cleaning out his parents’ house. It was not a task he had been looking forward to in the weeks following his father’s passing. However, it needed to be done in order for the house to be sold. And Damian knew he would regret it if he did that without giving the place at least one last look over.
To Damian’s relief, Colton Green had passed fairly peacefully. He knew that his father’s heart had shattered upon the loss of his wife the year before, so he was at the very least happy to think that the two of them were at last in each other’s arms again. The funeral for his now late father had taken place a week ago, but sometimes it still felt like just yesterday. Going through his death and the necessary goodbyes had been hard and tumultuous, filling Damian with a range of emotions. And sorrow was somehow only one of those many feelings. Losing one parent had been hard enough, especially with the reign of terror currently going on in Europe, but having another go not very long after made Damian’s whole life feel like just one devastating gale. So he permitted his work as a fairly new Auror to shield him, working through the rain and sleet alike as best he could.
There is a common saying about the calm before the storm. But no one ever talks about the deafening silence after the storm hit. The creak of the front door opening was the only sound that echoed through the one-floor ranch house. Damian was used to being greeted by stillness at his own apartment, but hearing it here was eerie. It was no secret that this place would never be the same now that its previous inhabitants would no longer be returning, but the reality of it all was still harsh to accept. As he shut the door behind him, Damian took a moment to close his eyes.
Almost immediately, his mind went back in time to reminisce. Because his mother had been gone the longest, she was the first to appear. The corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled at her son. While Maria Green had not returned to her Florida hometown in quite a few years, her skin remained just as sunkissed as it always had been. The smell of spices filled Damian’s nostrils, anise and cinnamon if he remembered correctly, as she moved to greet him. Her lack of physical presence was not lost on him, but he was comforted by the phantom scents. Maria’s mouth moved soundlessly as she appeared to call for his father, who was seated in the living room reading the paper. The scene was laid out like a typical Sunday morning, judging by how Colton set aside the large comic section instead of his usual stock market updates. Despite being retired, the old man still took the time to see how his investments were doing.
The visual faded away as Damian opened his eyes again. He savored the still lingering scents from the brief memory as he headed for the kitchen. There, his moment was interrupted by a different sweetness hanging in the air. Brow furrowing in both distaste and puzzlement, Damian wondered where the slightly soured smell was coming from. It didn’t take long for him to locate the bowl of untouched past-their-prime oranges on the countertop. Damian couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight, despite the flies he waved away on approach. The fruit had clearly been untouched for some time, indicating that his father never had any intention of eating them. Therefore, Damian could see the orange being an obvious sigil of Colton’s love for his late wife.
He had heard often of the tale of how his parents had met. While on a business trip in Miami, Colton had decided to take a brief tour of an orange grove. There, he had become quickly entranced by the owner’s daughter. He did not impress the farmer with his New Yorker banker background, but Maria was just as smitten. In an almost fairytale-like fashion, the pair showed one another their different lifestyles: that of a southern belle and a Yankee city slicker. Damian’s mother was certainly more than just a simple farmgirl, running the numbers and a great portion of her family’s orange farm behind the scenes. And his father was not just a stiff white-collar worker, having no problem rolling up his sleeves and getting some dirt under his nails with cars and gardens alike.
Colton promised Maria the world, even if he didn’t have a single penny to his name. But her family never consented to their union, despite everything Damian’s father tried to do to please them. His mother was choosing someone outside of their class and culture, and the couple had no choice but to leave Florida and the orange trees behind. Colton started by taking Maria around the country, showing her all that he could just as he promised. Over the next few years, his parents traveled to each and every state. They would have gone further if Maria hadn’t discovered she was pregnant while they were visiting the Grand Canyon.
Growing up, Damian had heard most of the story from his parents, but some of the details could also be pieced together with help from their massive scrapbook collection. The books the pair had made of their journey were beautiful, and Damian made sure to collect them immediately after disposing of the rotting oranges. He took a seat on the couch with the multicolored stack of books beside him. While he knew his parents had been expecting him and his sister then, it was interesting to watch the pages skip from the Grand Canyon right into their wedding planning in Niagara Falls. Their honeymoon had been spent between New York and Canada, giving Colton and Maria a bit more time together before they welcomed Damian and his twin sister into the world.
Despite how the pregnancy itself had not been depicted, nearly every moment following the twins’ birth had been captured. Damian did not have any personal memories of the sister he had shared his mother’s womb with, as she had passed before taking her first breath, but his parents’ scrapbook allowed him to see the pair of them side-by-side. One would have thought she had died later on, she looked so serene in the photos. But out of all of the rest, his sister’s pictures were the only ones that did not move. Even after all these years and never having known her, Damian couldn’t help but feel the pain of yet another missing piece to his heart at the sight.
He shut the book, balancing it briefly in his palms. The sight of the cover blurred slightly as the tears came. The silence around him was stifling, somehow more overwhelming than constant noise. Damian had never felt so alone before, and this grief cut deeper than any physical blow he had ever received. And unlike a bruise, the hurt would take much longer to heal, if it would at all. He missed them all greatly, but all he could now was say goodbye and move forward with their memories.
#character development#benedict cumberbatch#tgs wide#hp community#hp roleplay#tw parents#tw death#grief#grieving#reminiscing#losing a parent#prompt fill#writing prompt#prompt#writing prompts
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And then, after the Fade prison, they're all like "Ohhhh. Okay, now that makes more sense"
I'd love to see what they all do post-canon (when things have calmed down a bit) to help Rook grieve now that they actually know. It'd probably be similar things, but actually having Rook be able to be present the way they expected originally would be nice. It'd be so sweet and tender.
Just losing my mind at the implications that the companions have all been trying to help Rook grieve Varric, and Rook doesn’t know
Emmrich, wise and long-familiar with grief, being told by Neve and Harding what happened; understanding why sometimes he overhears Rook’s muffled voice in the Infirmary, talking to no one. He takes Rook to the Memorial Gardens and mentions he talks to his parents, thinking Rook might be comfortable with the same. Rook lights candles and rings bells but Emmrich watches, sorrowed, to see Rook still seems in deep denial.
Neve takes Rook to the Wall of Light; a Shadow Dragon Rook knows just what this means but any Rook can understand the solemnity, the power of remembrance. Neve reenergizes Brom’s light and looks to Rook, hoping Rook will mention wanting to make one for Varric. Rook is kind and comforting to Neve, but Neve is lost in wondering why Rook doesn’t take the chance to open up. She can’t figure it. Maybe Rook just can’t face it, not yet. Maybe Rook does something privately. She isn’t sure but it nags at her.
Davrin’s not big on talking about feelings. He’d rather just move on. But he sees the way Rook seems a little hollow sometimes, a little distant; he sees how Rook takes so quickly to Assan. “Hey Rook,” he says, and invites them to come with him and Assan to safe places in Arlathan, where the woods are clean and green and growing, where real sunlight dapples through the trees. Rook always seems to love these outings, seems lighter afterwards. But Davrin feels a little confused in that Rook never seems to realize the outings are mostly for them.
Taash is another person not big on feelings. But they know how much feelings can twist you up and mess with your head. When Lace tells them about Varric they feel badly for Rook, and think to how they feel when they’re struggling. Epic fights, dragon fights, drinks with the Lords. Taash is perfectly capable of doing all that on their own. But maybe bringing Rook along will help get them out of their head a little bit. Does it help? Taash isn’t sure.
Bellara’s double-versed in grief after what happens to Cyrian. Rook helped her through trying to reach him, and Bellara wonders, in her own pain, if she can help Rook a little bit too. Especially if Rook is elven, teaching Rook about the braziers and the challenges is another tool she can share about her or their people, another way that might help Rook with their grief. Neve’s told her that the Wall of Light didn’t seem to help Rook much, but maybe a different funeral tradition could help them instead. Rook helps her light the braziers and Bellara feels her heart lightening, though she wonders at Rook, who seems more moved by Bellara’s reactions than anything else.
Lucanis is nearly as allergic to dealing with feelings as Davrin is, but he immediately clocks how Neve and Harding are acting, and asks what happened before he joined them. They tell him about Varric and that they’re worried about Rook, that Rook seems to just be shoving those feelings down without dealing with them. Lucanis is no stranger to that, but while it’s fine for him, he doesn’t want to see someone who risked their life to save him share that struggle. He brings Rook to Caterina’s funeral planning to show Rook it’s okay to admit the loss and honor it. When that doesn’t seem to make a dent, he falls back to his standard - lavish meals, small gifts, coffee. He knows it would help him. He just wishes it helped Rook too.
Lace hurts the worst after losing Varric and Lace is where Solas’ magic comes the closest to faltering. Rook can see Lace is down, she’s quiet, she’s afraid after what happens with the gods escaping; but Solas’ magic holds and Rook can still never see quite why. Lace would love to sit over drinks one night and share stories about Varric, but she sees that Rook doesn’t seem ready, and she doesn’t want to push. Instead she writes letters to Ma, to the Inquisitor, to Cassandra, to Aveline, maybe even to Hawke. She writes out her stories with Varric’s old quill and she carries a bolt of Bianca with her. A dozen times she goes to talk to Rook about him, and when she tries Rook turns away or changes the subject. It hurts, but Lace knows she can’t make Rook talk about him, and she hopes in time it will get better.
This just absolutely crushes me the more I think about it 😭
Edit: Varric’s death is Rook’s personal companion quest every other single companion tries to help them with, and can’t 😭😭😭
#maybe they just turn the library in the Lighthouse into a big pillow pile#and have a pajama party#where everything is soft and cozy and they can reminisce and give for what they lost#so many feels#dragon age veilguard#dragon age veilguard spoilers#grieving varric
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Hmm tomorrow will be a tad awkward....
#it's [redacted]'s birthday so that means I'll probably try to visit her#should write a letter to burn#so it'll reach her#ashes to ashes and all that#but it's like an hour away with the bus is the problem so if I try to get there I'll probably not manage to do much else that day#and I might need the time to study for an exam because starting one day before the thing is a RISKY move#especially in politics class where you probably need like. understanding of constitutions and stuff#it really depends on if I catch a bus there and on if I can catch one back#it's weird really i didn't know you could feel the presence of an absence#we aren't even that close I'm not sure if I'm allowed to act like this#it's just really weird to think about that if things had gone differently we probably would've been a lot closer by now#because I hang out with her close friend group#it's always a bit strange when they start reminiscing and I sit there nodding not really able to contribute a lot#we had that one time we went to the store in at like seven in the evening just the three of us and#i decided to play on the swing of the local playground which was on the way there#and she used to call me a shitty utilitarian I'm also counting that one because there's not much else really. some offhanded conversations#in class and on school trips too#it's weird that she left because I'm not sure if I'm allowed to grieve that or not#we weren't close but we were good i don't know if we were on the line of a friendish something but it feels a little like it#if she had stayed we would've been a lot closer now and I just have that running through my head like a broken record whenever she comes up#not close close#but good with each other#by associations you know?#not that it matters much now anyways whats done was done and there's no going back#thats what happens when you spiral and make a really really bad decision and have success with it and now everyone around you gets to#idk. nobody really gets ti anything. the show went on the world is still moving just the same it's just different sometimes now#haunts the narrative like a ghost fr it's insane at some point it comes up#it was back in April and it still regularly come up in some conversations#wild#personal
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When you’re blamed for something you didn’t even send
#THE OBSESSION IS SO REAL ITS PATHETIC!#ugh… these humans… ionno man!#but at the same time I’m flattered cause they still think about me???#weird but okay#I’ve just been minding my business over here grieving Austin’s hair when bam!#I see a post pop up reminiscent of the hate asks I got a few months ago#get OVER yourself child!#I guess I could look at it as a ‘fanbase’? but that’s really weird#gotta love the for you page lol#never a dull moment#and then when you’re accused of sending something when it wasn’t even you?#ohhh man talk about assumptions and what they’ll do do to you🤣💀
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I haven’t touched this blog in years and I don’t think I am emotionally prepared to skim through my 1d tags of memories
#this blog is like an archive of my childhood and I am too scared to reminisce and grieve that 1d era#fuck why did this have to happen#my brain is mush rn i am struggling to process in stages#I’m just rambling at this point#I need to log off
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i see it with the adult perspective of yeah okay that my feelings on this are based on a parasocial relationship but also it’s just like. this thing brought me joy and frankly still does and at one point the public persona of this individual did. even seeing tweets of his tonight while i’m deep diving made me cackle
#i think i might feel less weird about his death if i wasn’t acutely aware of the fact that globally people are being murdered#due to genocides and political conflicts#on one hand i want to grieve and reminisce but on the other i’m aware of the fact that that is silly and frankly unjust when we look at#larger things occurring. i feel selfish for posting about it and being so open about my shock#bruh
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forever reminiscing and grieving the girl i could’ve been 🪽
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