#i gotta go i gott a goooo tis past 1a but hey!

[ahomeboylives]

it would be a hundred times easier if we were young again

[text ID: And words, little words, not really/ soothing but soothing nonetheless./ Words too small for any hope or promise. /end ID]

[image ID: a woman’s hand rests on the chest of a man. the focus of the image is the small cross necklace that the man is wearing. /end ID]

[text ID: I was very young when I was cracked open.// Some things you should let go of/ Others you shouldn’t/ views differ as to which/ I kept hold of everything, just in case /end ID]

[text ID: All I want is nothing more/ To hear you knocking at my door/ 'Cause if I could see your face once more/ I could die a happy man, I'm sure /end ID]

[text ID: I am longing to be with you, and by the sea, where we can talk together freely and build our castles in the air. /end ID]

And I have this dream where I'm screaming underwater While my friends are waving from the shore And I don't need you to tell me what that means I don't believe in that stuff anymore

[text ID: Why do people go to these places, these places that are not for them?/ It must be that they believe in their night vision. They believe themselves able to draw images up out of the dark./ But black wells only yield black water. /end ID]

[text ID: [Bridge]/ I hope that you see me, because I'm staring at you/ But when you look over, you look right through/ Then you lean and kiss her on the head/ And I never felt so alive, and so dead /end ID]

Your presence somewhere else is the sad warm thing blowing around my room.

[image ID: a dark photo of tumultuous sea. /end ID]

[text ID: You speak to me. I trust your voice/ because it has lumps of hard pain in it/ the way real honey/ has lumps of wax from the honeycomb /end ID]

[text ID: HANNIBAL And now? WILL GRAHAM Now my inner voice sounds like you. I can’t get you out of my head. /end ID]

[image ID: wei wuxian attempts to reach out to jiang yanli, but she is just a hallucination fading away. /end ID

[text ID: where do the words go/ when we have said them? /end ID]

And was it really how you sing it dear? Oh I remember worse than blood and tears And did you love me like the way you wrote? Well I'm afraid so, I'm afraid so

mitski, two slow dancers / richard siken,_ the torn-up road_ / the x-files, 3 / emily berry / kodaline, _all i want / bram stoker, dracula / phoebe bridgers, funeral song / helen oyeyemi, white is for witching / florence + the machine, hurricane drunk / joshua beckman, s_omething i expected to be different / elsa bleda / yehuda amichai (translated by chana bloch), inside the apple / hannibal, kaiseki / the untamed, episode 32 / margaret atwood, the small cabin / keaton henson, old lovers in dressing rooms

irma and lyanna. lyanna and irma. they had never been apart, not really. not until now. and nobody knew how to console irma in the midst of her grief, because nobody was practiced in grieving. her mother was helpless; royalty doesn’t often grieve, even the exiled ones. her father was stumped; his latest grief was distant, a cousin he hadn’t seen since childhood. her brothers were too young, and the one that wasn’t was too preoccupied with his new wife. the girl sat, oscillating between wailing and numbness, staring at the shop’s inventory of panflutes, when she heard barely a whisper, lyanna’s whisper. “irma?”