[maybe someone might disagree with me but that's something I think about charlie]
charlie was like an older brother to the dead poets, he always tried to hide his pain, he had to be strong for them, especially neil and todd (they never asked, but he felt like that. he was trying to protect and help them).
neil struggled every day between his father’s pressures and his true passion, acting.
todd lived in his brother’s shadow and had high expectations behind his back.
the poets thought charlie was the sun, they had seen him cry such little times that they struggled to remember them.
just as the sun, comes the time to set.
the night comes and there is only darkness, the room is silent.
charlie sometimes sobbed wrapped up tight under covers. he was tired of thinking about the life that he was supposed to have, tired of his parents who didn't consider him.
some of those nights were louder, cameron heard him crying, but he said nothing, knowing he wasn’t the person charlie needed.
in the morning charlie's light was shining again, just like the sun rising after a stormy night.
this is how a new day began.
Thierry Mugler for Elle Magazine (1999)
Autumn. Twilight. Fire lit. Restless. Solitary. She sits. She goes to window. She stands. She sits. Twilight. She thinks. She writes. She sighs. Twilight. Solitary.
James Joyce, from Solitary Hotel in “The Complete Works”
the bear / phoebe waller-bridge / lilly dancyger / david byrne / dan pearce / suzy kassem / toni morrison / joseph fink / rabbi joseph telushkin / emily dickinson / richard siken / lone twin network / aanchal malhotra / frank ocean / gabrielle calvocoressi / maurice sendak
Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home
The tragedy of Black family
Xuxa Meneghel by Gleeson Paulino for Elle Brasil
“We met at the wrong time. That’s what I keep telling myself anyway. Maybe one day years from now, we’ll meet in a coffee shop in a far away city somewhere and we could give it another shot.“
reblog if u save <3
The boy is confused but, he still as they gather around him
So many of them they, all sing about the pleasure of life
And he cries, “why can’t i sing along with some felling or some meaning? It feels like I’ve always been blind.
I don’t know why you girls are so kind for there are so many in line who’s lives aren’t as lost as mine“
Indigo night by tamino amir
-Warsan Shire, from “Souvenir”, Our Men Do Not Belong to Us