People keep looking up to the sky and asking
โ€œWhy do you not help us
when we need help the most?โ€
They are lost, and alone,
and feel their faith was blind.

They do not realise yet,
That if heaven exists,
it is empty.

All the goddesses and angels are all here,
They see our earth is bleeding,
hemorrhaging innocent lives
and have been born again as human
to help keep us alive.

—  Nikita Gill, Heaven

anonymous asked:

doesn't monster kid in the main game say that all the children wear striped clothes? if Chara and Asriel were 14 and 16 in the tapes, why were they still wearing those shirts? Snowdrake and the other forest teens aren't so I assume monsters are only supposed to wear them until 13.

That is up to interpretation. We personally consider anyone high school age or younger to still be a child, or at least, not an adult. (Does that make us sound old?) Also, keep in mind that the teenagers hanging around in Snowdin do not wear clothes, so whether they would wear stripes or not is up in the air.

I ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿผ LIVE ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿผ FOR ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿผ YOU ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿผ I ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿผ LONG ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿผ FOR ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿผ YOU ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿผ OLIVIA ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿผ DONT ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿผ LET ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿผ ME ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿผ GOOOOOOOOOOOO ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿผ DONT ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿผ LET ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿผ ME ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿผ GOOOOOOOOO ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿผ OOOOO ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿผ
a prose poem about ghosts

we’ll help you, my mother tells me, but you’ve got to want to help yourself too. my father, standing by my bed, saying, play the piano again for us, for your mind. i think of what it will mean to take medication: the white pill between my fingers like a secret, a pearl pressed flat on a train track. the cold water glass. my heart unfurling.

i dig through the dusty piano bench. pressed in a yellowed 60s copy of preparatory exercises are loose leaf pages, a secret. titled sebastian in someone else’s handwriting, scanned copy of notes drawn in pen on printed staff. sebastian, meaning: basket of marigolds, summer as rich as wine, brideshead, in the time before depression when my tongue was a moon crater still learning to how to taste the word man.

here, by the keys, my bones hum. melancholy is a night with no wind pressed up against my ribs. i hold on to my body as if it were its own secret, me, my blood, and all the words i cannot say. take my time with each note. my hands wreaths of rust, the dust spilling out of me. i think again of the pills, my heart prying itself open to reveal the real heart nestled inside, the red one, the one that beats.

summer is only a word, but it’s an orange word, a kind of burning. i play softly. there’s a ghost in the room somewhere. he might be sitting on the bench. he might be evaporating.


Olicity - Arrow 5x05 | 5x19

Oh. Hi. - Felicity  

Hey. - Oliver 

Nice of you to use the front door for once. - Felicity

*nervous Oliver*