Things That Remind Me of the Death Note Characters:
Light: late night walks when you feel overwhelmed with aimlessness, the minutiae of life growing unbearable day by day, the drone of the news buzzing in your ears until itâs blotting out anything else, the sudden and abrupt realization that you donât remember what you felt before this world-weariness, this boredom, ink stains on your hands, recurring nausea and disappointment in humanity, that invisible halo burning the flesh of your back, the desire to make something beautiful and lasting, knowing youâre meant for something grander but lacking the words to define it, the ticking hum of your watch, your jailed thoughts, that ache for the unattainable, shadows following your wake, blacked out words, your myth-making of yourself.
L: the ghastly glow of a monitor illuminating the room, crumbs littering a desk, those frequent moments when youâre awake and the entirety of the world seems asleep, not-so furtive glances and whispering following your wake whenever you go outside, high-rise buildings, sleepless nights scrolling through Wikipedia pages with a hunger that is never appeased, acquaintances but no true friends, hotel rooms, mystery novels, faded jeans, question marks, those moments when you forget your own name, the whir of helicopters, droplets of rain, messy cords, dregs of tea, the intermittent sound of your hands typing out theories with your keyboard in the dark, the echoing peals of bells, how dull absoluteness feels.
Misa: your intense, severe devotion that is hardly ever returned, the wine-dark color of your lip gloss imprinted on envelopes, the bright neon stickers that you attach to every notebook you get, charms rattling against your cell phone, contact lenses, the fading memories of your happy childhood that you greedily try to keep, when you were young and believed in the love potions of fairy tales and how you never really managed to grow out of it, tarot cards, parroting the lines of the lead actress in every movie you watch and reciting them with uncanny ease, that black cat you insisted on having lounging around your bedroom because you were damned for misfortune anyway, that long and winding road you avoid when itâs dark, amor vincit omnia.
Mello: the scent of kerosene burning in your lungs, clutching your fists so tightly that the circulation almost stops, sleepless nights trying to outdo someone who seems so indomitable, the wind in your hair as some unknown artist belts out a tune, feeling untouchable and so recklessly alive as the scenery zips past by you, the image of Icarus flying too close to the sun burning behind your eyelids, chocolate shavings melting off your tongue, learning how to hurt the other children first before they hurt you, those first staggering steps when you master a new skill, the second place trophies and medals that have collected dust lining the back of your room, that heavy tightness in your throat when you have to ask for help.
Near: dossiers, crispy white sheets, a pair of dice, static screens, glue setting on bare skin, unsteady card houses, confined spaces, hand-crafted gifts, fog, spacing out when too immersed in a singular activity for far too long, the telltale sound of shuffling cards, the rustle of long sleeves, not remembering when was the last time you left for the world outside, the caress of your hair against your ears, the clink of ice scattered in glass as it dissolves in pure rushing water, snow blanketing the world as you gaze outside, white noise, optical illusions, dominoes falling in perfect tandem, condensation building on the panes of windows from the sheer cold outside, morning dew, perfect symmetry, telescopes to observe the vast sky.
janainaart
turnnoffyourmind
vaporwave
baratheonpilled
snowghoul
yousharknotpass
romaincrisis
