I will always maintain that "He had really pretty eyes" is the best confession of love ever

If it matters, I don’t know why I’ve never shown a single trace of the disease that rotted out your father’s lungs. I spent enough time with him, and to be honest I think it was more about putting out a challenge to whatever made him ill than being brave or compassionate—do you understand? I loved your father, and I did everything that I could possibly do to ensure that it would never work with us, but it did. He made it do so, and then he died of a God damn cough, because Italy is full of selfish, cunning fools that are much more like me than like him. He died. I lived. The world is unfair, children. All you can do is what you can do, and then you learn to bear the rest. That’s why I’m not arrogant—I simply won’t waste time, knowing what I know. And for all our mistakes, your father was never, ever a waste of time to me.



If this is not one of the most teeth-aching sharp sprawling visceral-emotion-generating wave-crest-crashing pieces of fiction in the world- well, point me in the right direction, and till then, and probably even after, I will maintain my stance.

I will always maintain that "He had really pretty eyes" is the best confession of love ever

If it matters, I don’t know why I’ve never shown a single trace of the disease that rotted out your father’s lungs. I spent enough time with him, and to be honest I think it was more about putting out a challenge to whatever made him ill than being brave or compassionate—do you understand? I loved your father, and I did everything that I could possibly do to ensure that it would never work with us, but it did. He made it do so, and then he died of a God damn cough, because Italy is full of selfish, cunning fools that are much more like me than like him. He died. I lived. The world is unfair, children. All you can do is what you can do, and then you learn to bear the rest. That’s why I’m not arrogant—I simply won’t waste time, knowing what I know. And for all our mistakes, your father was never, ever a waste of time to me.



If this is not one of the most teeth-aching sharp sprawling visceral-emotion-generating wave-crest-crashing pieces of fiction in the world- well, point me in the right direction, and till then, and probably even after, I will maintain my stance.

(no subject)

As per usual, I am late. That's okay. By this time the parties will have been over and the noche buena leftovers already reheated to serve as today's lunch, and the most I can do is say that even if I mentioned it late, I wish you all well this holiday season, and of course thereafter. And if you're thinking about your weight or schoolwork or anything that means stress-

- really. It's a day (twelve days, however long you like) a year. Live it. Belated happy Christmases, all.



I want more applesauce. I want more seats reserved for heroes.

(no subject)

As per usual, I am late. That's okay. By this time the parties will have been over and the noche buena leftovers already reheated to serve as today's lunch, and the most I can do is say that even if I mentioned it late, I wish you all well this holiday season, and of course thereafter. And if you're thinking about your weight or schoolwork or anything that means stress-

- really. It's a day (twelve days, however long you like) a year. Live it. Belated happy Christmases, all.



I want more applesauce. I want more seats reserved for heroes.

the whole eyes thing is both entirely coincidental and very helpful.

You could drown in those eyes, I said,
so it's summer, so it's suicide,
so we're helpless in sleep and struggling at the bottom of the pool.

-Richard Siken

the whole eyes thing is both entirely coincidental and very helpful.

You could drown in those eyes, I said,
so it's summer, so it's suicide,
so we're helpless in sleep and struggling at the bottom of the pool.

-Richard Siken