My friends and I met Peter Capaldi and we cried a lot. I talked to him about the ‘tiny tiny Starbucks’ that stood behind where we were watching the filming from. He is such an angel, who got so excited about the TARDIS, pointing to it and going, “look, have you seen it! ” and was genuinely kind, lovely and adorable (even when he did his Malcolm Tucker impression!). Once a whovian, always a whovian. So much love for this man, I’m so blessed to be studying where I am, and hope it see him and Matt Lucas again. Love you millions, Capaldi.
I get infatuated a lot and I wonder if anybody study’s the rhythm of my fingers curling in my palms and how my eyes drift in four different directions in less than two seconds when somebody is standing right in front of me, because I feel that I am too massive, too awkward, too different, too shy to be stared at.
My heart cries a lot and my head never sleeps and I don’t know how to stop being so poetic every damn minute of my day, because God, I have planted flowers in my chest in hopes that you’ll find me pretty but they’ve done nothing except suffocate me.
I have this fear that I’m never going to be fully loved in return before I die and all I’ll have left are flashes of the faces that have made the blood in my cheeks simmer, the stardust in my veins hum with loathing and want, eyes weep at the thought of finding someone who’ll sit in a dark room and listen to me speak and not feel the need to touch me, because they’ll feel everything through my words.
Yes, I am a romantic.
You can see it in the way I study the tilt of your lips, the furrow of your eyebrows, the curving of your shoulders when you stand, the tapping of your foot unconsciously, the fear living in your eyes but it’s the type that cant be detected anywhere else, the sound of your laughter both nervously and without a care in the world.
And that makes me feel like there is nobody who will love me as deeply as I love them, because I am a complex person with too many layers and detailed thoughts, simply too much to understand if not patient, and that is why being a poet feels more like a curse than a blessing.
everyone go see Allied it’s sad I cried a lot BUT there’s a lesbian couple they’re side characters but their sexuality isn’t the plot point they’re just THERE and treated like every other character and it’s 1942 and yeah it just made me feel happy
No matter how many times you feel that way, there will always be warmth here. Even if it was a mistake, I don’t care, I’ll always be by your side. With the sound of tears and the looks of a sigh, I’m sure this is where we are now.