blank-journal:

“As I write this letter, the ocean breeze feels cool on my skin. The very ocean is soon to be my grave. They tell me I will die a hero, that the safety and honor of my country will be the reward for my sacrifice. I pray they are right.

My only regret in life is never telling you how I feel. I wish I were back home. I wish I were holding your hand. I wish I were telling you that I have loved you and only you since I was a boy. But I am not. I see now that death is easy. It is love that is hard. As my plane dives, I will not see the face of my enemies. I will only, instead, see your eyes. Like black rocks frozen in rain water. They tell us that we must scream, “Banzai” as we plunge into our target. I will instead whisper your name and in death, as in life, I will remain forever yours.

— Annabel Cotton, from Gus van Sant’s Restless (2011)

Day 36: i sing i swim by seabear

Human skin can be hard to live in.

baloneyy:

ozm rabbit (.gif)

After dark vapors have oppress’d our plains
For a long dreary season, comes a day
Born of the gentle south, and clears away
From the sick heavens all unseemly stains.
The anxious month, relieving from its pains,
Takes a long-lost right the feel of May;
The eyelids with the passing coolness play
Like rose leaves with the drip of summer rains.
The calmest thoughts come round us: as of leaves
Budding; fruit ripening in stillness; autumn suns
Smiling at eve upon the quiet sheaves;
Sweet Sappho’s cheek; a smiling infant’s breath;
The gradual sand that through an hour-glass runs;
A woodland rivulet; a poet’s death.

31 January 1817

And perhaps we met
In an ocean,
Where the salt gathered
In between our
Synapses;
Never really needing
The force of time and
Convergence
To haul us
To shore,
Never anticipating
The promise of
Safety on blank
Little grains,
Digressing,
Undressing,
Coming whole
Again.

mydarkenedeyes:

Watercolour Landscapes by Z.L. Feng

Today I did my favorite thing in the world a few times. Quite a few times.

join megan as she sobs about everything