handgiven

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Sunlight peeking through the rain Take the toil and the pain Breathe in Breathe out Find the peace somehow

[handgiven]

em would thrive in the very specific craigslist personal ads era. sure, he will come with you to your family's thanksgiving and help you endure it, all the while being blissfully, or rather transcendentally, oblivious of being everything your conservative family hates. sure, he will attend your bbq outing and bring some veggies to grill. sure he can watch & walk your dog twice a day while you are away <3

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i really should do more with emmanuel than just rp. he deserves to be known and beloved just. as is. in his story. whatever that may be.

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thinking about the glass as a very viscous liquid phenomenon, about the pitch drop experiment, about humans straining to comprehend deep time-- and about emmanuel who lives in it. the entire world droops and changes around him slow as breathing. can you imagine how such a creature moves? with the deliberation of a tree trying to make use of the powers of the wind to lean its branches down to you, to tickle your cheek with a shadow that both obscures the sun and draws thousands of little images of it over the ground, and you, underneath it. with the melody of a birdsong, not one particular bird's call but rather the neverending symphony of the forest bridging time from dusk till dawn, not of the day but existence itself. you know----

[handgiven]

what emmanuel lacks in imagination he more than makes up for in association. and he has seen so many things to draw associations to. that being said cloud-gazing with him is kinda wonderful

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tuning in for the first time since the start of june and seeing all the pride flags pop up in people's icons is <3 <3 <3

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emmanuel's accent

is made out of a mosaic of many accents, stolen off the lips of people he'd loved once. words spoken with a peculiar sort of diction, specific words spoken often and with emotion, he adapted them into his own speech patterns which do not in turn flow quite naturally, and their melody is slightly scattered, yet the cracks are mended with sheer love, so overall the feeling of listening to him speak is positive nonetheless.

[handgiven]

doing his daily reading while basking in the first sunlight to venture into this room in the last few days. he doesn't need much to be content. then again, if asked, he doesn't need to be content either. this world was not made for him, but instead he was made for it.

[handgiven]

i don't think i'm using the potential of friendly neighbourhood spiderman angel enough with emmanuel — please consider this. the kindly guy who shows up to the neighbourhood potluck. who regularly pops up to work at the community garden, who seems weirdly proficient at communal bee-keeping in spite of lacking any sort of equipment. who seems to be on friendly terms with the odd elderly lady down the street that hardly speaks to anyone. sure you might be a little confused about where he lives in the neighbourhood exactly and when you ask everyone gives you conflicting answers. sure trying to follow him home feels like having a staring contest with a rip in spacetime. sure he seems to disappear into thin air right as you turn a corner — and then appears the next week to trim the tomato plants like nothing happened. my point is, it's so normal, so domestic, all the while being just a little uncanny underneath. i should write that more.

[handgiven]

poking my head in to point out the fact that emmanuel may be a literal angelic being but he is way closer to being chaotic good than to lawful good simply because sometimes the laws & rules humans make to constrict their lives are entirely nonsensical. catch him helping a bunch of squatters build a communal garden. catch him accompanying them on the roof when the building gets occupied by the police trying to seize it back for the original owner who just wanted to let it rot. so long as there is no harm done to actual living beings, but all the harm goes to these invisible corporations and the fluctuations in their funds, then. well. he doesn't judge.

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hi i am still very much on hiatus but i'll have you know that on my way from work i saw emmanuel in every dandelion

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then again i think it suits me much more to just write him as an old man

popping my head in to complain about the fact that i have found a perfect fc for older jan [my czech raf pilot oc] but the same guy just doesn't work for when he was younger

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popping my head in to complain about the fact that i have found a perfect fc for older jan [my czech raf pilot oc] but the same guy just doesn't work for when he was younger

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hiya, going on a tiny hiatus until things calm down around me

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they told me my job description but i think i’ve got it wrong. they said i was supposed to man the lighthouse and save lost ships from going down. but every time i saw the ships i forgot about the light. i dove headfirst into the sea and swam to save their life. i drowned us both in the process; the ships never found the shore. i ended up helping less when i meant to be helping more. i think when they told me to save people with my light, i mistook their words and tried to save people with my life. i know i should have turned the light on, i know i should have taken their advice, but i don’t know what love is if it is not sacrifice.

— Climate, Whitney Hanson