The Boy in There
Short, fluffy, tousled hair. A deep, velvet voice that could make anyone swoon. A wide smile that just screams comfort and confidence, others would smile just because he was. He would play football with the other lads, scoring that winning goal; he would deliver a soliloquy so moving that everyone would be reaching for some tissues to wipe away the tears. He would be a shoulder to cry on, a friend to everyone, he would always say the right thing and make everything better- his hugs would bring anyone back down to earth. He wouldn’t be afraid of dancing and singing, he is comfortable in himself. He isn’t afraid of the sound of his own voice, he wouldn’t be afraid of his voice sounding fifty pitches higher than it should be. Flat chested, lean. He works out at the local gym, where everyone can see him and no one judges him. I see him in there sometimes, just out of reach, a blurry outline through a piece of glass as I walk past. I know he’s in there.
He’s the life of the party, scouring the walls for the waiting flowers, he knows what it's like to try and bloom without enough light. He is the one to go to for a walk along the beach as the sun sets on the horizon. Wearing a loose t-shirt that somehow hides nothing, his hands taking shelter against the cold in his trouser pockets as the wind blows aggressively, tensing his arms and flexing his muscles. He stands with a straight posture, unafraid of his chest. He isn’t afraid to clear his throat, his Adam’s apple flexing as he does so. I’m jealous of him. No matter how much I think of him, or how I think I see him in the glass, he isn’t out here. I know he’s in there.
He knows how to make his way in the world, he breathes confidence. He doesn’t need to feel meek when asking someone for help, he just knows they’ll answer. He doesn’t always excel at what he does but he greets failure as a friend and takes them on a walk, building the paths to somewhere better than before. He greets everyday in life with a flourish of grace and a smile warm enough to let you know it's okay, the world is better because he is here. He knows the way to sincerity and treats you with it, no matter the circumstances because he doesn’t want you to feel unwanted. I know he’s in there.
I know he’s in there because he is me. I am the boy in there.
Jon and Martin seasons 1-5 :,^)
27.02.25 Cottage on the water.
Watching Barbie watch as Ken takes over barbieland, takes her dream house and turn it into his own property, ruins her things whilst she cries in despair and suddenly I’m six years old again pleading my brother to be gentle with my toys as he throws them on the floor and against the walls. The hundreds of dollars in dolls that my parents spent for birthdays and christmas, told me to be careful with and showed me how to play nice destructed and destroyed as my brother grabs at anything and everything, tosses them around, stretches their plastic joints and pulls at their heads while I scream for him to stop seemingly wasted in seconds. He throws one down for another and I’m too small to grab them off of him. Easily toppled over as he pushes me aside and I’m wondering what I ever did to him to deserve it.
On top of it all, he’s still surprised when his torment breaks one of them, the legs snap out and he pauses as though he’s remorseful. I cry at the loss of my doll and despite how it was him who broke it. Him who threw it around. Him who pulled until the elastic snapped..
I am still told I should’ve been more careful with my toys.
Me: I shouldn't disturb Neil Gaiman. I shouldn't send an ask unless I really have no way of getting the information otherwise. I'll check old interviews and all the articles that vaguely mention the subject. Of course it goes without saying that I'll read though the FAQ in its entirety. Only then, will I send an ask. However, I'd be very polite and praise his work, as anyone would. I'd also keep it short, because I don't want to waste his time. But I'd keep it very very respectful. I'd be sending a message to a very talented, amazing author that deals with god knows how many like me. Or I'd just stay in the dark and not send him an ask. Yeah, I'll do that.
My Dash:
original post [x]
Krobus is enjoying the new waterfalls...
it ends, as it started, in a garden
~ Aspirer of many things ~ ~ Lover of another many things ~
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