WE’LL BE ALRIGHT. On (accepting) Premature Endings

I cant love you how you want me to

Yves Olade, from Bloodsport; “When rome falls”

[Text ID: “You can have my heart if you have the stomach to take it.”]

Disco Elysium lines that haunt me #7

Wordy by aavfvl

I have no idea how to use Tumblr so I'm just going to talk to the void until it speaks back I guess

oh im gonna be weird about this for so long

Frankly some of you should be hornier over weirder shit. The fear of being too genuine is the enemy of art. Be a bit of a pervert. It's good for the health. Doesn't have to be a sexual thing just own up to being a bit obsessed in some cringe shit it's fine.

I imagine a different life and know it could not exist, know it is incomparable, and consider it anyway.

There is a life in which I finish the chemistry lesson without interruption. I celebrate Christmas, my 12th birthday, and I see my dad again. In another life I meet him as an adult with knowledge and perspective. Maybe we talk, maybe we don’t. He would be alive. Anger fades at the sound of a beating heart. It is enough. I tell him I missed him, he asks what for. He says he’s sorry, and I am too. We laugh or argue and in both I hear his voice, so old and new. I would know him. He knows me. Both chairs are warm, and mirrored eyes are no longer alone. He’s there and it’s real, and he’s not as tall as I remembered.

Empathy stands on a mountain of grief; childhood by the lake. He reanimates. His hair, his eyes, an unharmed body. The words are mine. And he is not him. He exists as I tell him, his life in my hands, and as memory fails his image shifts. I will never remember as much as I wish I could.

In this life I wake up and he is still dead. His eyes are unblinking, his ashes are cold. His voice is faint. I shake her brain to remember again and she is a child and she is scared. I hold her and I am me. Seven years are infinite and small. My dad scatters, fragmented and whole. And where he does not, grief remains.

In a life where anything can be heard, I tell him I love him, and he knows.

By Kohl Donnelly