OH. MY. GOD
The central and peripheral nervous system of a human being.
Autumn Sunrise on Floe Lake (by Marc Shandro)
I love when moments like this get captured on film. I always wonder what became of the people in them.. I bet they wouldn’t have guessed that half a century later people would still be admiring them. And think how important that kiss must have been to the both of them, to go to all the trouble. I hope to be kissed with such fervor someday. And I hope they made it.
Sometimes I need drugs to deal with people who don’t do drugs
He looks into his cup, the colour matches the bright splashes which tip his hair, where it curves upwards messily into a fauxhawk of white and red.
He can see the reflection of his eyes in his cup, a warm cream, they look a lot like her tea, and her eyes, deep ruddy brown, look a lot like his.
They look down into their tea and up into each other.
“Things aren’t so bad” he says, but she should be the one saying it, because she should be the one comforting, right? That’s how these things worked.
“I’m right here” she assures, because she can hear it in his voice, in his ‘things aren’t so bad’, she can hear the fading of his heart, and she can see it in his eyes, the collapse of worlds he’d built up so tenderly, piece by delicate piece crashing down.
She can practically see the stone crawling around his heart again, and for now that’s okay, because it helps it heal, keeps out the decay, the maggots, unseen but there.
He takes a sip from her cup. She takes a sip from his cup.
“Things aren’t so bad”