I don't know what it is, but this year has been really rough for me and I've been thinking about Chester Bennington a lot. It's weird how much grief you can have for a stranger. How much a loss like that still hits me like a train from time to time. It's equal parts therapeutic and equal parts punishment to listen to that music and remember half way through a song that he's dead. To see pictures of the band smiling or rewatch an old concert video and get smacked in the face with all this restless sadness. Parasocial relationships are such a strange occurrence. One sided affection that will never be reciprocal in any way. Yet, this grief is real. This love feels real. As a fan, it feels like a massive rock is handed to you and you can't do anything with it. There is no closure for something like this. I sob in my car listening to One More Light and it guts me. Because I'm crying for the me I was when I could listen to that music and not have it bite. Im crying for the angry 12 year old screaming out Crawling. I didn't know him. I didn't know the band. I wasnt a die hard fan. I faded in and out of their discography. But they were familiar. Those songs spoke a lot to really hard feelings. I still feel that empathy and sorrow for it. My head and heart feel heavy and I listen to that same song and look for the part where they tell me how the fuck am I supposed to carry it.
I don't know how to deal with this. Does anyone?
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Temples are built for gods. Knowing this a farmer builds a small temple to see what kind of god turns up.
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hewwo! i will be youw suwgeon today! intewnal bweeding you say? let’s make ouw fiwst wittle incision
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Barnum leans over and whispers conspiratorially into his ear, “Our lot is number thirteen. Are you a superstitious man, Phillip?”
“Truly.” Phillip intones, flattening out the auction pamphlet across his lap, “As the only bad luck in my life is you, Mr. Barnum.”
-or-
A story of love; in all its forms.
hey uh
I co-wrote this with @jocos-ity
we love this movie way too fucking much lmfao
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haku x
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hold me close and tell me that I’m enough.
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My loving heart lost in the dark
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going through my microsoft word archives is great fun because i always find the wildest shit in there and by “the wildest shit” i mean the time i tried to rewrite the entire bible from scratch at the age of eleven and a half
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how have you been?
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