this was such a great look honestly what a fashion icon

I’m not apologizing.

Two Sane Guys Doing Normal Things, S1E8

Imagine how many times Dirk has heard these words in his lonely existence, for someone so wilful to so willingly accept that his help is not wanted. That he is not wanted. (Granted, Todd had just met him and is understandably wary of this new chaotic enigma in his life. Still. Give him a hug next season tho.)

please validate dirk

Todd, you’re… here. But the… the case is over. Look, I don’t… I don’t understand. Did you want something from me or… I can’t help you. I-I can’t do anything to help your situation or what I said.

I’m like a leaf in the stream of creation

by ヤシマタクミ on Flickr.

before the dark night traps me in, don’t leave me. do you still love me? if you feel the same, don’t leave today. don’t ask why it has to be you, just stay with me […] there’s nothing more i want now. i can’t even tell if my heart is beating. rather than forceful conversations with others, i’d rather be in awkward silence with you. so stay, wherever that may be. sometimes, when darkness comes, i’ll be your fire. in this world that is a lie the only truth, it’s you. ☯

Boom boom.

lovelyz mv + aesthetics → anonymous

Love is within everyone. I don’t know if that changes the way I look at the world. Since I was a kid, I have been surrounded by people who have given me love. If you grow up in a home where you don’t get that, you might have a different life. By knowing love, I’ve learned how to respect other people and give that back to others.

War doesn’t start with violence, it starts with misunderstanding and prejudice. If you say you’re in favour of a world full of peace, you have to try to understand why others think and act the way they do. You have to accept that not everyone sees the world the way you do. You can’t just believe that everyone has the answers to what is right and wrong.

the walking dead » season two; episode one » what lies ahead

I got the idea from our family’s plant book. The place where we recorded those things you cannot trust to memory. The page begins with the person’s picture. A photo if we can find it. If not, a sketch or painting by Peeta. Then, in my most careful handwriting, come all the details it would be a crime to forget. Lady licking Prim’s cheek. My father’s laugh. Peeta’s father with the cookies. The color of Finnick’s eyes. What Cinna could do with a length of silk. Boggs reprogramming the Holo. Rue poised on her toes, arms slightly extended, like a bird about to take flight. On and on. We seal the pages with salt water and promises to live well to make their deaths count. Haymitch finally joins us, contributing twenty-three years of tributes he was forced to mentor. Additions become smaller. An old memory that surfaces. A late primrose preserved between the pages. Strange bits of happiness, like the photo of Finnick and Annie’s newborn son.

Brilliant! Yes! Four serial suicides and now a note. Oh, it’s Christmas.