Suki Porter @angelofsmallxdeath - Tumblr Blog

“I used to wear my darkness as a disguise. Black clothes, dark hair. I made it obvious so people could see it coming. Then I decided to hide my darkness behind blue colors and fake smiles; and guess what? Nobody could see it coming. The funny thing is, in or out... My darkness remains the same”

#ch: suki #season five #reblog #gifset #kseniasolo #rp

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Season finale promo

Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts.

Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn.

"I thought we were friends. I trusted you. I told you everything I am, everything I wanted. Everything. And you used it against me, I handed you a weapon and you fired away"

Why? Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you.

Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in, and walk through it, step by step. There's no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That's the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine.

"Because, eventually, they will. Just like Shang Lix. You trusted her, you gave her all yours secrets, all your truths. You proved yourself loyal to the order, became one of them. And for what? Just to be betrayed, abandoned and destroyed. What about the father you so deeply love. Or Black. All of them, do they really love you? Do they really want you? Because, if you think about it, every tie that binds you to them is long gone. You wanna know what this is all about? Fear. They fear you, and everything you could be. The djinn, every hunter you’ll meet, it is not because of you, they don’t choose to be around you. They are terrified of what you are. You know this, little one. You will always be alone. Because wherever you go, death follows. But me, I can give you purpose. I can offer you so much more. We can embrance death, together."

And you really will have to make it through that violent, metaphysical, symbolic storm. No matter how metaphysical or symbolic it might be, make no mistake about it: it will cut through flesh like a thousand razor blades. People will bleed there, and you will bleed too. Hot, red blood. You'll catch that blood in your hands, your own blood and the blood of others.

“I don’t wanna do it. I won’t let them do this to me. Shang, I won’t let them.”

“What if it worked. What if they pulled the right strings. What if, after all this time, I face him and find myself on my knees before him. What if he really broke me. I can’t go back there.”

And once the storm is over, you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in. That’s what the storm is all about.

ARE YOU READY FOR THIS?

“ I don’t think I’ll ever be.”

#season three finale promo #suki porter #season three

awbuckyno

angelofsmallxdeath

“I used to be so different. I used to have so much. I just didn’t know I was okay with what I owned”.

#sukiporter #past #gifset #gin

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Maybe it doesn’t have to be this way. Maybe I don’t have to be alone.

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I think of the beauty in the obvious,

the way it forces us to admit how it exists.

The way it insists on being pointed out like a bloody nose, or how every time it snows there’s always someone around to say,

“It’s snowing.”

But the obvious isn’t showing off, it’s simply reminding us that time passes, and somewhere along the way we grow up.

Not perfect, but up and out.

It teaches us something about time, that we are all ticking and tocking.

Walking the fine line between days and weeks, as if each second speaks of years, and each month has years listening to forever, but never hearing anything beyond centuries swallowed up by millenniums, as if time was calculating the sums needed to fill the empty belly of

eternity.

We so seldom understand each other. But if understanding is neither here nor there, and the universe is infinite, understand that no matter where we go we will always be smack dab in the middle of nowhere.

All we can do is share some piece of ourselves, and hope that it’s remembered.

Hope that we meant something to someone.

we were never perfect

we were only ever barely amazing but I’ve been thinking of the word instantly.

And how you lived

instant to instant take for instance the night we met when you wiped the rain out of your face like sweat and said

it’s not raining

it’s just the weather trying to look busy we decided right then and there that the inventor of the umbrella was a pussy three days later you were sick in bed reconsidered your position then called me and said

maybe he was just wise

my heart is bending I keep re-reading the ending of your life expecting another chapter I expect laughter as if it was always there I expect the sign on your bedroom door that read

beware of shithead

I unexpect your death so hard that a part of me believes I can make it not true

you kept a rock on a satin pillow on your bookshelf

and told me it’s a star

and you found it in a junkyard and it had been broken down for quite some time because too many people wished on it and that’s a lot of pressure for one little star

you are the smile I have kept secret

the Atari four bit hero of my youth

and at the service your friends all looked at me as if to say you’re the writer and I don’t mean to be an asshole but

so what?

I knew him only as well as he knew me and when you told me that he died

I missed him

instantly.