hearts decide to love again ♥ @lilym-evans-blog - Tumblr Blog

a message for each of you.

i'm sorry for popping back onto your dash again, it feels like it's even been yonks since i've logged onto here, actually. but, i was reading through old messages in my ask box, old skype messages, old roleplays and felt the whole ~reminiscing~ thing coming on. i guess this is my way of finally letting it go, but in doing so i really have a few things to say to some of the most beautiful and endearing people i have ever met, through ups and downs.

#ooc message

drjohnhamishwatson

andromeda-negro-blog

WHO WANTS LIA HERE?

EVERYBODY DOES. AGREED?

#zinnishka :ll

LIAAAA, PLEASE DON'T LEAVE US. I know it has been rough for you lately but please stay! Also are you in any other rps? Please don't go

hi darling anon xx you're lucky i checked this back, i was just scrolling through the pages from the early days for old times sake. look, sweets, i feel like it's time to leave maraudermore; as hard as that might be for you, and me, to accept. everything has its time, right? maraudermore and the people have been such a huge part of my life and there's some i plan to keep in touch with, so let me know if you want to be one of them. i am still writing, both tumblr and invisionfree, but i'd rather give that out via ask so just come off anon. this is sweet of you, but my mind is pretty much made up. i guess, in the wise words of doctor suess: "don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened."

seddie-songs-blog

Visit Original Link

Miley Cyrus ft. Emily Osment - Wherever I Go

drabble.

(Ashes to ashes.) Orfeo ed Euridice. Fitting. She would not empathise with the man, never having the horror of a loved one bidding farewell as they drew their last breath. Horrors of other natures created a hallow expression, engraved across her features of haunt. The eyes of a dreamer had settled in the blackness, the lips of a cherry had grown into a rigged line, the pain of that not achieved had become just pain. As if a figure from the underworld had transcended upon her very soul, breathing lifelessness into her lungs and cavities; a doll for the taking, that walked and talked but never truly felt. The underworld would argue feelings were captivating, yet withdrawing; the heaves would show disdain, their feelings were angelic. Perhaps, if the young woman had a glimpse of heaven she might have been lenient towards the ladder, wearing her heart on the sleeve. Ofreo was evidence in provision enough, watching as expressions of love faltered through death and final breaths of hopelessness. She was the undead lover in her glorification, lying in the tomb; still, always still. Death, dying, sleep. She was assertive that an eternal sleep would have been a welcome break from a world of pain and injustice, a world that had not loved her the way she had once loved it. Ofreo, Ofreo - love me 'till death. The ghosts danced across the keys, etching their way through the delicate fingers of an equally as delicate host. The notes consistent, befalling that of a sorrowful downfall of the heart. Aunt had said the most brilliant of lyrical clusters were composed by that of the most brilliant aches; it took losing everything to come unraveled into a musical genius. A girl had never understood such words, nodding her head with reverence and continuing to play about light-hearted across the defined keys of the piano. A woman - a lady - was aware of such pains; she was no lady, but best to keep up such pretenses or else mother might disown her. The underworld had met her feet at an intersection, turning such pain into the reality of losing a virtue held so close to her soul. Prior, she had been a piano player with a soul; now she had become that of a pianist that played with an ere of soulessness in the depths. If losing such talent of hollowness would mean the absence of pain, she would have chosen such an option in a heart beat - any feat was better than the numbness she had grown accustomed to. Entranced, the notes across the canvas became a story of loneliness, of deprivation and lovelessness. She was not strong, nor had she accepted a path of embellishments between moments of wholeness. The keys were lonely, held together by one another to instill company - she was to be the lonely key across the grand piano, the one that didn't 'fit' even amongst others that looked precisely the same. She was not the same, not the same. The girl had lost herself amongst others, refraining from voicing herself as yet another conquest of a man with little respect for the cries of her internal structures. She played as if she lacked respect for herself, pressing until her fingers turn blue and the bones creaked. Anything to feel, anything to feel more than an ash blowing through the gallows. She had what it took to be brilliant, to follow the methods of Stanislavski and become more than ash, but reform herself as the regrowth. Yet, she was entrapped within another time and place - as she played she was far away, oceans apart from her being. As the piece reached a height, a single tear of past memories made its way down her cheek, a glistening of the sorrow she felt for the loss of herself. Little girls ought not believe in fairytales, of discovering a prince charming and being whisked away - of losing themselves to him after her papa walked her down the aisle and gave her to him. She had once been a dreamer, yet her ability to play such heavy music illustrated the realism in the facets of her vocabulary; the ways in which she was long gone. The woman had lost herself to the piece, the very fabrication of the emotion that crossed her features as she expelled the wounds, too afraid to write them down but exuding them with music through ease of definition. The beauty was long gone, replaced by the urge to rid herself of these fragments in any means possible.

#the end.#one final piece to bid farewell etc.

MY ADVENTURE.

i ran into a pole in the car :lll

#SECOND EVER DRIVING LESSONNNNN EVER.#let's hope i don't almost die again this time

hey lovelies. i will be taking a permanent-ish break from maraudermore for a while. i'll come on to post if i'm up to it. i might come back later and revamp some things, but for now i'm taking some time and space. i love you all, keep writing and being amazing.

xoxo.

jaydn: *points* who is that?

me: lyra?

jaydn: is that one of your characters?

me: no, it's anna's character.

jaydn: how does she make her look so real? o:

me: *face palm*

jaydn: i wish my male troll looked like that.

CHARLIE IS GOING TO DIE.

HOME AND AWAY W2OSEDJN

ALL THE FEELS

#staffers there's an ask from me on maraudermore so check