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if i look back, i am lost

Love Begins

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@indigorhoades
HOLY SHIT, IT WAS THE ORIGINAL ONE
MAKE A WISH
the first post ever on tumblr
I WAS EXPECTING IT TO BE A REMAKE OF SOME SORT HOLY FUCK
WHO THE FUCK KEEPS BRINGING THIS BACK
reblog this because it shows up every blue moon
I FOUND IT ✊
I WAS SO SCARED IT WOULDNT BE THE ORIGINAL
Who first posted this?
cdc june 2017 egyptian gods by lonnie bao Spectrum 6: The Best in Contemporary Fantastic Art
DIY Beautiful and Unique Dream Catcher Ideas (1)
mythology moodboards | styx
greek personification of hatred and goddess of the river styx
“You can’t always stop the dreams that come.” Abbe Mae stood and turned to sit beside the two girls, clasping her earrings in one hand and putting the other on Kate’s leg. “But sometimes you can control what happens in a dream. If you know how, you can stop what’s happening and change its direction.”
Kate looked at Abbe Mae, puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“Dreams are our minds’ way of telling ourselves stories, and if you believe what you see, if you believe the illusion the dream is sending you, then you can’t do anything about it. But if you realise it’s just a dream, then you can change it.”
Shae sat forward and wrapped her arms around her shins. “How?
“Listen carefully and remember, when you wish to wake inside a dream the first thing you must do is look at your hands - to remember who you are.” Abbe Mae dangled the earrings in front of the twins. “Then press something into the palm of your hand and hold it there. The pain will remind you what you are capable of.” She took the earrings, made from small red feathers and the de-sharpened tooth of a viper, and pressed one down into her palm. “And when things aren’t going the way that you like, keep looking at your hands and telling yourself what it is you want to see or do, until everything changes.” She ran her eyes over the girl’s faces, both now calm and enthralled by the idea of this. “Do you understand?”- Fish In A Barrel [Unedited]
“I was telling Scarlet about the nightmares.”
There's a rumble in his chest like an idling Mustang as he nods his head but grumbles his disapproval. His face screws up like he wished I didn't know that. He continues to clean the brushes with more vigour than they need, his hands dark from years of smoking rollies and putting his hands into all sorts of chemicals and paints.
No one says anything.
“Seems like some pretty intense nightmares.” I try to break the silence. Could've chosen something better to say.
“If I don’t draw them…” He pauses. Glances at the walls as he breathes slowly out. When he speaks again his voice softens, yet still sounds like gravel from smoking too much of the good and not-so-good stuff. “They'll take over my mind.”
He looks at me with shame in his eyes, a brow furrowed and waiting to see if I will judge him for it.
I joke instead.
“So you let them take over the house then?”
“Who doesn’t love to draw on walls?” He spreads his hands out in front of him. Even behind the crows feet and sad eyes there’s a hint of cheekiness that lights up his face.
“Can’t take the child out of the old man.” Liv laughs at herself, drumming her fingers on the armrests and pressing herself into the back of the chair.
“Ease up on the ‘old’, woman.” He rubs the back of his hand across the stubble under his chin with a sound like sandpaper on wood.
Staring out the window at the telephone wires like pencil lines in the sky, Emma watched as the bushes moved with angst in directions opposing the wind, and the far off silhouettes of etcho-sketch mountains and clouds that moved in haste as if coming home way past curfew.
And while the landscape sped by, and still with no idea where they were going, she wondered if these would be the last things she ever saw.
- She Never Saw It Coming [unedited]
Photo credit: DODGE’S WHEEL Death Valley, California, 1977 by Jean-Loup Sieff
She Never Saw It Coming (WIP) *** He ordered the shots. Tequila. Not the good stuff that warms you like a slow, full body orgasm, but the cheap and nasty, ‘rot you before it drops you’ shit. The kind that will either leave you peeling your face off the bathroom floor or waking up in some stranger’s car. - Indigo Rhoades.
Storyworld Aesthetics.