lust-in-motion said:

Your ideas are alluring and elusive all at once. Your words are simple but not the ideas. They're complex--entangled and nebulous--and offer much fodder for ruminating. Perhaps the world of today needs more philosophers as you and less folks propounding drab, dreary, anachronous and unnecessarily pedantic philosophies.

You understand. Also, you probably feel because otherwise they’d be just words to you. Thank you for that.

the-hero-and-the-angel said:

A low sigh was all that came from Liam's lips, he was lying on his side at this point now, a small groan had come next. So far his skin looked deathly pale at this point, and his natural attitude wasn't there, it was more of a quiet, dreary sorrow that hung in the room.

The girl peeked out of her room for a brief moment before walking out altogether. It might have brought bad luck again, but her conscience insisted she go out to check.

In a way, she was right for looking. Diorla flinched slightly upon looking at his condition. She knew she should’ve pulled out the kit at the time. Now, here was an injured guest, with worsened conditions to where he could die within the next few minutes.

She stood over him, quietly waiting for some sign of liveliness.

Somehow today has been one of those days that has been good from the moment I woke up.  I don’t even know how or why.  Nothing major has happened.  But everything just feels… right today.  Like things are gonna be okay.

Panda’s picture made me so happy and then the message I just got made me so happy I cried.

You are all so awesome.  I have such awesome followers and friends on here, even if we don’t talk much, or have just started talking.

It’s just so encouraging and amazing when you guys like what I write or draw.  I just.  Ugh I just love you all so much I don’t know what to say or do.

It’s a cloudy and dreary looking day but somehow today just feels… perfect.

Thank you all for helping make it that way.

Also, damn, Winter is coming and it’s coming fast. I woke up at 6:20 and it was still dark outside. I am dreading those dreary days where I leave for school when it’s dark, and come home when it’s dark.

Joska liked to wander the cemeteries.

It was a fitting hobby, he supposed. He could only ever leave the house before the gates were usually locked up on the colder days, thanks to the ever-looming darkness and the chill in the air, and there was very little he could think of that was more picturesque than a man wandering the cemetery alone on a dreary day.

When he could, he tried to bring gifts, something small to place on the loneliest graves. Usually, it would be something mundane, something small that would be whisked away by the wind or buried beneath the dirt itself in time. His favourites were flowers; generic, perhaps, but something about it felt intimate, loving, even. Demeter would give him a flower or two when he asked, asking no questions; he didn’t know where Joska was going on the rare days that he got to leave before nightfall, and though he could tell that he was curious, he kept said curiosities at bay and resisted the urge to ask to tag along, settling for reminding him to be careful and to bundle up if it was particularly chilly.

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