old house!

Princeton, New Jersey -- 1993

Here’s where you talk about the first time your father really hit you. 

What’s the qualifier, really? It mean exactly what it looks like. An emphasis. Sure, he’d spanked you before, slapped you a couple times, shoved you out of the way, but you were just a tot, there wasn’t enough of a presence to endure the punishment. He didn’t really unload on you before. 

Here’s his old house; one of those ugly, muddy colonials on the outskirts of Princeton. Decaying white. Dull brown. He drove a big black car back then, and didn’t always park on the driveway. He had a new girlfriend by then, some tall girl with doe eyes who shouted at waiters and wore a lot of red. 

When he hits you, it’s a punch. Your head snaps back. Half your vision goes pure, glowing white. In a brief inarticulate moment you think of how it looks like how they light Heaven in movies, how Heaven must have a very specific kind of light. The other half of your vision seems to be rolling, like a vertical hold going off. Even when you’re falling backwards you’re thinking in terms of things you know; the mechanics of movies, films. You strike your head on the table, and that’s when the pain seeps in, bright and startling, like needles and hammers. 

Here’s his big black car. It always smells like smoke. Once in awhile you’ll see a cigar in the ashtray, which you think is some kind of cigarette for older people. He’s started to go gray early, which he complains about nonstop. The car has two cassettes you like; Led Zeppelin, Lynyrd Skynyrd. It has two cassettes you don’t like; Poison, and Pearl Jam. You decide good music must start with L and bad music must start with P. 

When you come back too, he’s shaking you, screaming in your face. You become tangibly aware of his size; he’s definitely twice your size, easily, and seems overpoweringly strong. In those moments, he grows to the size of an ogre, howling in your face, his thick accent distorting everything, losing t’s and r’s and g’s, this fuckin sattaday I’m goin outta town and you betta shutcha mouth next time I’m makin’ plans. What he’s blaming you for doesn’t make any sense. You don’t even remember saying anything. You were standing next to the table, wondering about shoes – gray shoes fit better, for some reason. 

Here’s his restaurant. It’s failing. You don’t know why, but it seems to cause your father a lot of stress. He’s thinking of selling it, going to work somewhere in the city, make a lot more money. It’s a diner between a shoe shop and a suitcase store. The sign outside in neon lights up about half the time. It’s always cold inside, even in summer, which you like. Anywhere you can wear a coat is better. 

You’re standing there, thinking about shoes. Gray shoes fit better. They seem to have some sort of propensity towards comfort. You should look in the encyclopedia to see if there’s something connection color and comfort. Your father and his girlfriend come in. He’s wearing shiny black shoes. She’s wearing strange looking thick shoes. They’re fighting, which is basically how they talk. You ask for a glass of milk a couple times, but they don’t hear you. When you stand next to your father’s girlfriend, she pushes you off to the side, gently. 

Here’s a picture of your father in Italy the next year, scowling on a boat. Here’s a picture of him in Greece, smoking a cigarette. Here’s a picture of him in France, along the Italian border, visiting a winery. Here’s a picture of him at some culinary school in a loud pinstripe chef’s outfit, looking at something out of the frame. He never seems confused, or lost in his own thoughts, he always looks engaged in the moment, and often annoyed. But old pictures have a strange, synthetic charisma. And that means you can’t trust them. 

The next day, you don’t have any bruises or marks. Like when you were younger, if you hurt yourself, it just goes away. A black eye fades fast. Cut on the lip vanishes. Bruises and gouges and everything fades away. It’s like fast forwarding, you think to yourself. Without the little silver lines, white noise, in the middle, keeping everything indistinct. Maybe while you sleep, the silver lines come, and speed up your body, so you’re fine the next day. Everything becomes white noise. You don’t really feel fine, but you don’t feel terribly surprised, either. Again, when you try to consider it, what it meant, you have no answers. 

The conclusion must be, then, there are things that have no answers. 

It would make sense; evidence of that has been building for some time now. Why people are so strict about speaking but also don’t care what you say. Why people want you to be smarter, but they also want you to be very dumb. Why people aren’t always watching but hate being surprised. Why animals can’t think. Why you have so many uncles. Why when you look in the mirror you can’t be sure that’s you, because there’s no proof. 

You spend the rest of the day reading the encyclopedia, trying to connect things. You don’t have “J”, because you set it on fire when bored. You realize now that was a mistake. 

Here’s his old house again; dirty. The previous owners had been arrested for something. There was a bunch of rusty objects in the backyard that may have been a swingset, or a set of shelves, or some kind of macabre construction only the unhealthy can manage. The birdbath out front is askew, but when you try to balance it, it’s too heavy, it’s made of marble. The front door has four wooden panels that look like faces, and you’re glad the bottom two look friendly. 

The top two don’t look friendly, but they have to greet your father and his girlfriend, so in a way, you understand those upper wooden faces better than the two people in front of them. 

Was so cool earlier walking through camberwell at about half 9 at night walking past the beaut old Georgian houses and out the corner of my eye I think I see a cat sleeping on a wheelie bin in someone’s front garden so I double back and look and it’s a fucking huge fully grown fox curled up about 2 metres away looking straight at me I stayed there for minutes talking and making noises at it it didn’t look nervous in the slightest just was moving its head around laying in different positions it was so gorgeous never seen a live fox up the close before

In recent days, 2:30 didn’t bring Imogen the same sense of relief it had in the past. While it was nice to be done with school for the day, it was downright awful being expected to go ‘home’ to Natalie’s new house. She missed her old house, and more importantly, she missed her dad. She’d gotten to live with him while her parents had been in the lengthy process of finalizing the divorce, and right up until the custody battle had ruled in that woman’s favor. Lost in her own world, it took Imogen a moment longer than usual to notice the presence of someone else coming to a halt in front of her locker as she prepped to go home.

Can I help you? she asked, masking her surprise that the visitor was none other than Miles Hollingsworth, someone she was relatively certain she had absolutely nothing in common with. Well, except for the fact that apparently, they were neighbors now.


anonymous asked:

Hey love could you explain the meaning of the dream please? I remembered the main conversations which is weird bc either there's not much talking or I can't really grasp what the conversation is actually about. I walked into an old friend's house (in the dream tho it was my boyfriend's mother who lived in it) & his mom was telling me how she baked Angel Cakes with pecans in it & decorated them. I remember exactly how they all looked. They were all pretty small round cakes (maybe 8 or so of) CONT

And I believe there was other’s in the house but I’m not sure who. The interior of the house was decorated as if we were in the 40’s or something. I went upstairs to my original friends room and she was there. I’m not really sure what happened then. I had multiple dreams last night. The house who it belongs to the girl showed up in another dream where we were out with our girl friends and I did some sketchy shit that made her not wanna talk to me ? I was out eating in another dream too w friends

When I was out eating though I didn’t really know who the heck I was sitting next to. Only knew 1 girl (also an old friend) and I remember talking about middle school and how we used to be. And memories showed up too. I remember saying “im so happy I’m not that person anymore” and a girl was like “same girl same” and high fived me. The old friend had a notebook that had my hand writing it in. Idk such long dreams that have no idea what it means. My grandfather also came in another dream I had

All in all I want 3 messages that were supposed to be connected. Apologies for such long stories! Every night I usually always end up remembering my multitude of dreams…. A while ago I got into lucid dream but didn’t continue in the studies. Do you think that could possibly be why I remember most of them?

Honestly, these dreams sound reminiscent and reflective, so could possible be your subconscious reflecting on the past in comparison to the present. And yes studying lucid dreaming tend to make it easier to remember our dreams x

anonymous asked:

I recently had a dream where I was walking down my street and for some reason ended up at an old friend's house but my old friend wasn't there. I found this girl who was helping the homeowner get ready for her day (basically like a nanny). The girl was super stressed so she called in some help from her friends. Her friend showed up and so did the homeowners husband. The husband was mad that she invited someone over and fired the nanny. The wife decided to go to bed (cont.)

(cont.) so once the wide went to bed, the husband saw that I was there and tried to kick me out. For some reason I didn’t leave but started getting closer to him and he stopped trying to make me leave. We ended up having sex in his kitchen even though his wife was in the room right next to us. Could you help me interpret this? I do not personally know any of the people that were in my dream. Thanks!

Hmm okay, well if you don’t know the people they generally represent parts of your psyche or people in your life. So really, the meaning of the dream would depend on the context of your relationships. You sleeping with another’s husband could represent feelings of betrayal, either by you or against you. The conflict between the characters in your dream could symbolize internal conflict about a certain situation or a feeling of “push and pull”

anonymous asked:

Purple and orange 😊

Purple: Ten facts about my room

I have all my atl tickets from past shows, as well as my signed nothing personal sleeve hanging up near my bed, 

my wallpaper is red and grey, my carpet is grey i have an atl calendar (surprising am i right), my wardrobes, desk and bedside table are all built in and i’ve had them for ages, my bed is from ikea (as was my old one), since my house is old the boiler is in my bedroom, i’m running out of room on my bookshelves…and in my wardrobes, i used to have a tv in it but i got rid of it, my room was redecorated last year, and you can see my garden from my bedroom window

Orange: Six facts about my hometown

don’t wanna say too much and give out where i stay, so let’s just say it’s pretty crap, there’s not much to do for young people, it’s a seaside town, i’ve lived there all my life, i was born in the local hospital and as i said before, my old school is across the road from my house

send me a colour!

@kant i got drunk and offered to house an old friend cause she had nowhere to go and now im hungover but my house is clean and im not sure if i regret it or not

Welcome to Kanto


The base that Taihou was going to be spending some time at was not really much of a base at all. It was an old Fedual era house with a few installation pieces added here and there. The closest thing it had to fortification was an old chain link fence. It was more than clear that this place was once someone’s home that was converted to be a temporary naval base back in the early days of the war against the Abyss. In actuality, it was the home of Kaga’s former admiral and after he was killed in action, it passed on down to her. 

The first person to greet the armored carrier girl was the new admiral himself. Though, instead of wearing his military uniform he was wearing a three piece business suit. It seemed that he had just come back from a meeting with his father at the business and hadn’t bothered to change clothing.

“Hey, there. Sorry for running lately. Hopefully, I didn’t keep you waiting for too long. Zuikaku decided to wait until the last minute to inform me that you were coming. Anyways, let’s get intros out of the way first. I know you’re Taihou. If you don’t know my name yet, it’s Admiral Hiroshi Ishii. Welcome to the Kanto Regional Carrier Base.”


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anonymous asked:

Could you write Sherlock and Molly at the Holmes estate in Summer and skinny dipping in the lake. They accidentally laugh to loud and Mycroft comes down only to become mentally scarred...

I know this is Sherlolly but it’s got a Mycroftcentric conclusion because…I love Mycroft ♡  

I am so sorry for taking so long and I hope you don’t mind me tweaking your prompt slightly! I changed it from the lake to the sea and instead of mentally scarring Mycroft, well…you’ll see ;)


Breach  (also on FF.net and AO3)

For a wedding that had been so private, it seemed odd that it had taken place in such grandeur. It was the late Uncle Rudi who had maintained the original Holmes estate; a grand old house on a private coast which had first belonged to Mycroft and Sherlock’s great-grandfather. 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Okay why does Calvin's Snapchat look like Taylor's house the rug and the wall omg I'm talking about her new house

My sane side says that is 99% just his kitchen. And my not-so-sane side says there is probably some influence from his ex gf in terms of interior design. (cause his old house was quite modern)