* ASK MEME: isaac marion’s WARM BODIES.
( feel free to change pronouns as needed ! )
i am dead, but it’s not so bad.
i’m sorry i can’t properly introduce myself.
i think we’ve been here for a long time.
the future is as blurry to me as the past.
i can’t seem to make myself care about anything to the right or left of the present, and the present isn’t exactly urgent.
her eyes are classic novels and poetry.
i want our rib cages to crack open and our hearts to migrate and merge.
she is so unbearably beautiful and sometimes i see a future with her in my head.
you’re you again. you’re no one.
what are you?
what are you writing about?
we have to remember everything.
which one of you did it?
where are you? how long have you been here?
when the entire world is built on horror, when existence is a constant state of panic, it’s hard to get worked up about any one thing.
you’ve never done this before, have you?
you really don’t remember much, do you?
how long has it been since you died?
maybe you’re not such a monster.
what you are, i once was.
i know you can talk; say something.
there you go again. drifting off. i’m so curious what you think about when you daze out like that.
i find things sometimes. but we don’t seek.
music is life! it’s physical emotion–you can touch it!
i saw the blood on your face. whose was that?
everything that made him who he was just started rotting.
i have begun to wonder where i came from.
you think death isn’t meaningful?
you don’t want to stay dead for the rest of your life, do you?
you and i are victims of the same disease.
i want life in all its stupid, sticky rawness.
let me do what i need to do.
tell me something hopeful.
tell me this isn’t the end of the world.
i don’t want to die. i don’t want to disappear. i want to stay.
i mean, i can’t stay here. you realize that, right?
but uh, thanks for saving me. again.
but we’re what’s killing you now.
why are your eyes like that?
you’re kind of changing, aren’t you?
what does it mean that my past is a fog but my present is brilliant, bursting with sound and color?
i’m sorry i killed you.
you’re going to do those things. you’re going to be strong and beautiful and brilliant, and you’re going to live forever.
you’re going to change the world.
look alive out there.
tomorrow i will not miss anyone.
are we trying to stay alive because we think the world will get better someday?
is this your grave i’m standing on right now?
it’s hard to take your life so seriously when you can see it all at once.
i’m sorry i couldn’t be here for your battle; i was fighting my own.
peel off these dusty wool blankets of apathy and antipathy and cynical desiccation.
i want life in all its stupid sticky rawness.












