war & desire

My name is Park Sheridan. And God, how love has played me for a fool. I have loved her truly, madly and deeply. But in the end I wondered if it had all been for naught. I wondered if she still loved me like I do and will forever. I pray to God that...

[strateuo-blog]

I'm moving all my muses to this blog.

[strateuo-blog]

I'm moving all my muses to this blog.

[greaceu]

[strateuo-blog]

i want a male sacrificial lamb where i can dump lovey things with my female sheridan. 

[yunhojaejoong]

[confictvra-movedandarchived-dea]

Then again, the female shouldn’t worry about his way of drawing. Being a detail-oriented person, Hayden didn’t want any mistakes to happen when it came to body posture or facial expressions. He was very meticulous about those when it came to assignments and extra projects. But since there were no outstanding work for him, perhaps a bit of relaxation would work – which is doodling.

Hayden blinked his eyes dreamily, before he turned his attention to Paris when she asked about something he doesn’t know much about – love, was it? “Liked…anyone? What do you mean?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.

Well, if you count his family…then yes he loves them, Paris.

[strateuo-blog]

Try saying that to Paris. Trying reasoning with her. Because there was simply no way you could get it through her thick skull. She was stubborn as a mule. However, Paris did acknowledge Hayden’s skills in the arts but it just wasn’t her thing to voice the positivity; hence why she didn’t. She only spoke of the negatives. Lost love had made her a bitch. 

Hayden was really an unintelligent guy though, and sometimes it was frustrating talking to him. Because, how more obvious could her words be? Oh Hayden, why am I still friends with you, she wondered. And that question was a mystery in itself. Like, how was it that she had managed to snatch a friend at all. God, what was that even about? She, Paris Sheridan, was incapable of socialising and if she did -- nothing good ever came out of her mouth. “Urgh God, why are you so stupid, Hayden?” she groaned. “Like as in love --” She flailed her arm about. “Love a girl in the kind of romantic way, y’know?!” 

[confictvra-movedandarchived-dea]

That bit – for some reason, made the female tilt her head to the side, a puzzled expression shown on her face. This was one of those days where she wondered whether the male was having a bad day or…was simply the way he is in general. 

“– A-Are you sure you’re…o-okay, m-mister?” She asked out of curiosity. “B-Because you don’t sound like you…a-are.”

[strateuo-blog]

He looked like he was having a bad day? Then, he must be having a bad everyday, for that was a look that he donned in his waking hours. Perhaps, it was because Eleanor had died. Dead. Gone. Lost forever. When word of her death arrived at his doorstep, he felt the last flicker of light sputter out and he officially enshrouded by an eternal gloom. There was no rewinding to the guy he used to be -- and who was that he wondered? 

“Yeah... it’s been a few years now... but I’m okay... I’m still breathing, still living if only just barely... Yeah, I’m okay...” 

[anyja]

[stoicremains-deactivated2017102]

I resist the world, I suffer from what it demands of me, from its demands. The world increases my sadness, my dryness, my confusion, my irritation, etc. The world depresses me. Everyone is “extremely nice”—and yet I feel entirely alone.

Roland Barthes, Mourning Diary (via whyallcaps)

[confictvra-movedandarchived-dea]

He was pretty sure he knows what he was doing. Besides, he’s an arts student – there’s a reason why he was admitted to a college like that, right? So he knows his stuff when it comes to drawing. For now, he wants to take it easy with the doodling he was doing. Finishing up three drawing assignments in a week was no joke at all. 

“No, it isn’t.” Hayden answered truthfully, his brown eyes looking up at the wooden figure before looking back at his sketch pad to draw little circles on it. He stopped drawing midway when he heard her, head faced up from his sketch pad as he batted his eyes in confusion. “– Why would I say that?” Paris, please don’t taint his innocent mind.

[strateuo-blog]

But knowing Paris, she wouldn’t take it very lightly. She was always picking on everything, never letting a single detail go past her eyes. It had something to do with her pessimistic nature, making everybody’s life as miserable as her own. A hand reached by the side table that was next to the couch, and grabbed a hold of the remote. She flicked through the channels, waiting for something to capture her interest, but nothing did so she just settled on a kid’s program. 

“It was an example Hayden,” she rolled her eyes, Adventure Time’s playing in the background. “I know you like girls, so no need to get all startled -- wait I’m not even sure anymore. You don’t seem to have an interest in either...” She turned around abruptly, an arm over the backrest, dark eyes gleaming with curiosity. “Have you ever liked anyone?” 

Better hide that wooden figure now. 

[fracturexangels-moved]

— { ♥ } Sharp gaze wandered back to look at the male once more, her facial expression a neutral one. At first she expected him to just continue his walk without another word but she surely didn’t expect him to say something like this. A human who seemed to have an eye for the unordinary. A hand reached up, brushing chestnut colored tresses behind her ear, her figure leaned against the fence at the side to prevent people from falling down into the river underneath them. The pureblood stayed silent for a little longer but delicate lips eventually curled up into a faint smile, a gentle voice spoke up. “What makes you think so?”

[strateuo-blog]

Navy converse shoes shuffled to a side, staying clear from the oncoming rush of the busy folks of Manhattan. A sidelong glance at the young woman. Beautiful and unreal. There was just something about her that didn’t belong to this wretched world. But how could that be when this wretched world was the only world that he knew of? And to conjure such thoughts were to say that angels and demons existed, which he knew to be mere fantasies and dreams. However it was clear that he was drawn to her, for why else would he be standing beside her and opening up a conversation, which is a rarity in his case. “Your eyes.” 

[massintimeofwar]

[romanxer]

            For a moment the drunk girl didn’t say anything as she was           thrown onto her bed. She shifted a bit, laying on her side as           she looked over at Park. Zinnia just stared at him for a second           before she finally said something.

               — “The bad dreams will still come, no matter what.”

[strateuo-blog]

Darkness reigned the entirety of the room with an exception of the crack of light from the door and the spill of moonlight from the window. Park had pulled a chair over to her bedside, eyes darkened in the night. It was hard to see what expressions he had in the dark, but one didn’t have to guess to know, it was always that one expression: neutral. A hand reached out hesitantly for hers, and he gripped onto it reassuringly. “But you must sleep, regardless.” 

[confictvra-movedandarchived-dea]

Well, at least he had something to eat. “I-I-It’s not like I eat them everyday, mister.” Ryo puffed her cheeks, lips jutted out slightly before she decided to take a bite on her own cupcakes she baked. “I-It’s my own baking, s-so I know the limit…”

[strateuo-blog]

“I highly doubt it...” he muttered under his breath, and a silence fell upon them. He wasn’t one for small talk. Peeling off the papery sleeve from the wrap, he too began to feast on his lunch. 

[lifeinpoetry]

all day I think of her—      her white teeth,           her wordlessness,                her perfect love.

Mary Oliver, from “Spring,” New and Selected Poems: Volume One (via lifeinpoetry)

[strateuo-blog]

"Did you know we actually live about 80 milliseconds in the past, because that’s how long it takes our brain to process information? So basically, our bodies are in the present while our brains are in the past."

“Do you know that this face --” he points at his face, “doesn’t really give a damn? -- Brains are brains. People are people. That’s all I really need to know.” 

[massintimeofwar]