At This Point It’s Like Who Am I Not In Love With

Well, I feel called out.

Ravenclaw: Physically, I'm here.

Ravenclaw: Mentally, I'm in a pirate AU fanfic, fighting alongside my rival turned lover.

Just reread the song of achilles, haven’t stopped thinking about Patroclus committing Achilles to memory in the crystal cave with “Achilles' eyes were bright in the firelight, his face drawn sharply by the flickering shadows. I would know it in dark or disguise, I told myself. I would know it even in madness,” and later when Achilles is whisked to Scyros and Patroclus crosses the sea to find him and recognizes Achilles among the dancers and thinks to himself “Had she really thought I would not know him? I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world,” and when the Greek army finally arrives in Troy, Patroclus admires the walled city from a distance and “Later, I would see those walls up close, their sharp squared stones perfectly cut and fitted against each other, the work of the god Apollo, it was said. And I would wonder at them at how, ever, the city could be taken. For they were too high for siege towers, and too strong for catapults, and no sane person would ever try to climb their sheer, divinely smoothed face,” and a decade later he’s driven to that very act of madness by grief and violent desperation “I leap from the chariot and run to the walls. My fingers find slight hollows in the stone, like blind eye-sockets. Climb. My feet seek infinitesimal chips in the god-cut rocks. I am not graceful, but scrabbling, my hands clawing against the stone before they cling. Yet I am climbing,” and when Patroclus proves so fearsome that Apollo is forced to intervene and send Patroclus to his death, “The last thing I think is: Achilles,” and after the war when he finally joins Achilles in the underworld, “In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun,” and how Patroclus kept his promise to recognize Achilles in death, in madness, in darkness, at the end of the world.

Bring them back! Bring back the loose, low cut shirts!

Hey Boys

You see this outfit?

The loose, low cut shirt? Yeah, could you not wear that anymore?

Some of us can’t handle it

Every 19th century novel ever:

*minor inconvenience happens*

Character: *falls ill for some reason and almost fucking dies*

In this household we love Misha Collins and Misha Collins only.

Do you see the parallels between the scene in Chocolat (when the Comte tries chocolate for the first time) and SpongeBob (when the Squidward tries the the krabby patty for the first time)? Just saying.

I’d like to be a Hufflepuff so bad. I’d like to be kind and hard-working and caring and loyal. I’d like to be a Hufflepuff, because then it would be possible for me to say “I’m a good person after all”. It’s hard to say it now. Now I fear that I am not. I fear that I’m not kind or smart or brave or ambitious. I can take the other ones (even tho they bother me sometimes, especially the smartness). 

But the kindness is killing me.

Two years ago I was swimming in the sea in Croatia and I had this thought. It was a very weird feeling, my head was completely clear, I wanted it and I knew that what I see in my head now, is my future. I saw it so clearly and I remember the moment like it was yesterday. Nowadays I'm working to that exact goal, the first part is already in motion, I see it happening, I believe it's happening. It is truly mind-blowing, how we can manipulate the world around us just by focusing our energy, having faith, praying (whatever it means to you) and by reaching a certain level of... vibration, if you wish.

I just came from outside. It's raining, the garden looks peaceful dressed in the gentle tones of green.

I feel the raindrops on my face, my back, my hands while I'm picking strawberries.

Things are not perfect but this moment is great and so so so grounding.

I've written a long-ass rant about this episode and decided to not post it. I keep it short instead. Well... short-ish. WHAT EVEN WAS THIS SHIT SHOW THAT I JUST LAID MY EYES ON TO. It had so much potential, it could be so poetic and strong and meaningful. And I'm sure it is poetic and meaningful on the paper. But the reality is just... fucking disappointing. Where is my baby angel?! Where is Castiel, the president of our clown country?!

The very last episode better be the cry worthy, soul crushing and hopeful and beautiful shit we want. Let's all manifest the gayest show finale, k? The one that we actually deserve in here.