Love The Way We Finish Each Others' Sentences. It's Like We're Soulmates Or The Beastie Boys

POP, and he was gone……….jean!!!

alright everyone, we’re picking ourselves up and going again. We’re putting ice on our split lips and busted knuckles. We’re doing our dishes and our laundry even if it stays hanging on the line for four days. We’re texting our friends back. We’re wiping the dust off our clothes. We’re booking and attending medical appointments. We’re taking the empty dishes out of our bedrooms. We’re sitting outside in the sunshine. We’re holding our heads up. We’re apologising to the people we’ve hurt. We’re forgiving ourselves.

Art by Roman Kupriianov

There’s something about Kevin, who was likely forced to play through serious injuries, who knew what Jean had to play through, being so protective of Neil and scolding him about taking care of himself and not pushing himself too far. He won’t let Neil just say he’s fine, he won’t let Neil unnecessarily push himself through the pain. I think that’s his way of rejecting the Nest and Tetsuji and Riko.

Smile, kid, smile. The thing that makes us humans

beach life in death save me !!

“When my nineteen-year-old son turns on the kitchen tap and leans down over the sink and tilts his head sideways to drink directly from the stream of cool water, I think of my older brother, now almost ten years gone, who used to do the same thing at that age; And when he lifts his head back up and, satisfied, wipes the water dripping from his cheek with his shirtsleeve, it’s the same casual gesture my brother used to make; and I don’t tell him to use a glass, the way our father told my brother, because I like remembering my brother when he was young, decades before anything went wrong, and I like the way my son becomes a little more my brother for a moment through this small habit born of a simple need, which, natural and unprompted, ties them together across the bounds of death, and across time … as if the clear stream flowed between two worlds and entered this one through the kitchen faucet, my son and brother drinking the same water.”

— A Drink of Water BY JEFFREY HARRISON

This too shall pass but like holy fuck

Oh to be a bard staring at the ceiling while the man I've been in love with for over half my life goes on a three page rant about how he doesn't have feelings