boom box head

I’ll skip kissing in the rain and walking on the streets of Paris,
but let’s dance on the bed in the morning
- pajamas on and huge smiles on our faces
I don’t want grand gestures or you standing outside my door with a boom box over your head
if it means I get lazy evenings on a tattered couch, spilling popcorn on your lap and laughing over cheap wine


when I think of moments I’d like to share with you,
they’re as simple as my hand resting on your chest when I wake up
and the rhythm of your breathing on my cheek
- just me being alive next to you.
there are no images of roses scattered on the floor and boat rides on sunsets,
no fancy dinners and food with names we can’t pronounce

no, I don’t see a fairy tale romance
and a love story worth making movies about

but I do see tiny moments,
just tiny, infinite moments
you and me.

You and me.

—  Tiny Moments // Genefe Navilon

the night i let her go
i thought about running after her,
thought about swallowing my fear
and abandoning reason to chase her down the street,
ignoring the sting of the pavement against my bare feet
and the shattering of my pride -
but i convinced myself i delayed for too long,
and it was too late
to want things i convinced myself
i shouldn’t ask for.

months later, i thought
i still could have gone after her,
could have driven to her house, classic boom box above my head,
could have called until she told me to stop,
could have tapped on her window until she asked me to leave.
years later, sometimes i still think
it’s not too late
to go after her,
to show up at her doorstep,
to tug on her hand,
to ask her to

—  a.d.c. // 11/365 // not too late

Chris “chowder” Chow, currently sobbing, running across campus wearing only a Sharks™ towel around his waist and a Sharks™ flag over his shoulders. It is the first day of summer vacation. The Sharks are in semifinals. He’s screaming every single semi Sharks related cheer and chant. He’s holding a boom box over his head in front of Farmer’s window. The boom box is playing the Holiday Sweater song. She’s also crying. They decide to name their first child Joe Pavelski Chow.

  • Them: stop it
  • Me: *holding boom box over my head blasting twenty one pilots music* I don't know what you're talking about.

Do you see this? Are you seeing this? Are you seeing this with your own two eyeballs that you have in your own face? When I first saw this, I had a *violent* physical reaction. Like most romantic comedy buffs and/or living human adults born after 1989, I recognize this as a recreation of one of the most iconic romantic moments in film history. It’s from “Say Anything.”

Like I said, it’s an iconic scene. If you don’t recognize the original, you might remember the tribute that Easy A gave it.

I’m not going to give a plot summary or anything, but the bottom line is that this “boy waiting for the girl outside with a boom box held over his head” is a gesture that means: “Come with me and let’s blow this Popsicle stand and go be in love somewhere else.” And Sherlock is making that gesture with Joan. Hm. That’s real strange coming from a “brotp”.

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