Every Time I Mention Shopping Online At Whatever Website

Hands in Denis Sarazhin’s art

- Toji Fushiguro

cr: Sally_Chang_ on twitter

this isnt even in a like. ‘doomed by the narrative, im always miserable’ kind of thing. like im happy and all, things are fine. but i think if i caused my own demise it’d be because i held onto things so tightly that i folded in on myself. or i’d feel more and more like a dense mass of lead and one day it would just crack. its like looking at myself in my head and being “hey. we’re never gonna be able to let anything go, are we”

anyways i wanted 2 write this down bc this is a sad attempt at journaling but before i could a friend called. and i was nervous before picking up but im So glad i did because she wanted help with something and i was the first person to come to mind. she ended the call with “hey. you know you’re very dependable right? i needed help with this and the first person to come to mind was you. i love you” i love u too hunz.

you will be called selfish and unfeeling and careless, but you will also be called dependable and sweet. all sorts of words from all sorts of people

i hold onto everything so much and so close with such a vice fucking grip i think im going to die of it one day. even though i talk a lot and say what i want to, sometimes there are such vile, or on the other hand such important things, that i wish could be said but they just cant. and they rattle around my head like a chant until it hurts and then i forget. for a while.

i remember everything bad thats ever happened to me and ive become So good at holding grudges without being angry at people. so its like. i remember what you did. yes i love you. this moment is lovely. until something delicate slips and all that has ever been wrong becomes glaringly apparent.

You would not believe your flies if ten million fire eyes lit up the world as I feel asleels.

Cuz they’d fill they fill the open eyes and leave sockhops everywhere you’d think me rude but I would just stand and

dance.

I’d like to make myself a fly. Planet eeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarth Sloooooooooowlyyyylle.

It’s hard to say that I’d rather Seal the deal when I’m a 𝕤𝕟𝕒𝕚𝕝. Cuz everything is never as it meeeeeeeeeeeeeeemmmmmmees.

Cuz I get a thousand bugs from ten thousand lightning hugs as they try to teach me how to fuck.

a fox trot above my hugs a sockhop beneath my 𝖇𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖘 the disco bug is just hanging by a thread

I’ll come back safe. You promise?

They live in my head rent free. Drop your headcanons in the reblogg tags

you think you’re over it but then you hear the two songs you played on repeat all throughout that one detached-from-reality-summer where u saw him day and night, and everything becomes a little blurry. you’re over it until you pass the bench by the sidewalk, the two people in love only a few feet away from you but in a world completely of their own, and you remember how you sobbed under the streetlights, pretending your pain was just brought about by something or the other. 

you’re fine until you pass by that one corner in the library. you remember how you woke up from a nap that felt like death, the table leaving imprints on your tired face. you remember seeing someone else in a haze, and feeling exhausted and alone, away from home. you remember doing a double take, seeing his face, his voice low the way he’d talk to someone in need of tender care and affection. “did you think we’d just leave you alone like that? im right here, yeah?”

 you tell yourself you’re over him and that you’re fine. you honestly are, really. until you’re playing with your mother’s hair, and you catch a scene from her soap drama. its a girl on the phone with her friend, her closest, with pain laced so deeply in her voice its a miracle no one hears it. “hey, its alright. he was yours to begin with. all that? just one-sided delusions. wishful thinking. i give you my blessing, so make sure you’re happy enough for the both of us. its no one’s fault, is it? love can’t be earned if you’re pitiful enough, if you wish for someone enough. it just happens.” you don’t notice what you’re remembering, which hazy memory, but you know your eyes burn and your throat is holding back a tight, lead-like lump. you know there are burning, red-hot tears streaming down your face on an uneventful summer afternoon.

 you know you’re never going to find someone like that again. you know that even if you do, by some twisted curse of fate, they won’t be yours. you know because you knew this before, before he happened, before you met him. you knew what your person would be like, and you knew it wouldn’t happen for you.

 you’re sitting in a crowded campus bus, golden light spilling in. you’re next to your best friend, and you tell her “you know? i know for sure i won’t find someone like him. i’ll get married, i’ll settle, but it’ll never be like that.” 

she tells you she knows, in the depths of her heart and soul, that you’ll find love. you’ll find someone who fits with you even better than him. you let her have it. you let yourself pretend for a few minutes, but you know, in the depths of your heart.

 you know you have such good luck with everything else, you know you can get out of the worst situations unscathed, you know the corner store always has a stock of your favorites, you know you’re blessed with a little mundane magic because the universe knows you’re never going to get the form of love you’ve always wondered about, always craved.

you’re fine until you remember, and then you force yourself to be fine once again.

A witch puts a spell on a girl, a sleeping spell that promises the girl shall wake through true love’s kiss. Men come and kiss her. She slumbers. Women come and press their lips to hers, but still she sleeps. Many years past, and the girl remains still. One bright morning,  a lost little boy finds her resting spot and clears the dust and grime from her face. He offers her a kiss on her forehead, and her eyes flutter open. She never feels romantic love for a man nor a woman, and she cares for the boy until the day she dies.

A young woman is imprisoned in a castle by a monstrously formed prince. The servants of the castle hope for them to fall in love, and when the spell is broken they assume their prayers have been answered. They are all surprised, but nonetheless pleased, when it is revealed to them that the young woman and prince are the truest of friends, and nothing more.

They say the kingdom is ruled by an evil queen, a woman who is incapable of loving. She is unmarried, she has no consorts, and she wishes for no partner. She is the wretched queen, the heartless queen. She must hate her daughter, for her daughter is beautiful, and women are incapable of liking another woman who’s prettier than themselves. It must be for this reason that the princess was sent away, not for how she was attacked by a man in the woods. They say the kingdom is ruled by an evil queen because she cannot love. The queen loves her daughter, and that is enough for them both.

There lives a prince who is forced to choose a bride at the ball. He meets many beautiful women, but find none which he loves. He spies one in a gorgeous gown and wonder in her eyes, and he dances with her all night long. The kingdom is sure he has found his bride. When the clock strikes midnight he tells her how he will never love a woman, or a man, in the way he is expected to. The beautiful woman smiles and tells him she expects nothing from him. The next morning the prince and the beautiful woman are missing, having run off together to see the world. They leave their shoes behind in their haste.

Many kinds of love exist. It doesn’t all have to be romantic.

.

Kuroo’s hair is still a mystery to me