“𝕰𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞𝖇𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝖉𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖞, 𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝖇𝖊𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖑𝖊𝖋𝖙 𝖇𝖊𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖎𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖉 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙.”
They’re looking up at the moon on a pair of cheap lawn chairs that adorn the sad, and TACKY motel that she’s been staying at. There’s a beer held in right hand as a cigarette dangles from the other. Eyes trained on constellations that he’s known since he was SEVEN. John made it his personal mission to acquaint Jackson with the NIGHT SKY ; to treat his son as if they were truly two outlaws without. Jackson remembers the sound of wood cackling as they slept on dirt, and his father softly strumming an acoustic guitar. It’s nights like this that makes him MISS his father, to WISH that he was still in his life.
‘ 𝖸𝖾𝖺𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇’ . . .’ Jackson no longer surprised at statements that she says that SOMEHOW match up to his EXACT line of thinking in that particular moment. ‘ 𝖨 𝖽𝗎𝗇𝗇𝗈 —— 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁, ’ hand raised as beer is tipped back, and a sip is taken. Beer warm as hand falls, and he swallows brown liquid. ‘ 𝖣𝗂𝖽 𝖨 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖢𝗅𝖺𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗇 𝖺 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗇 ? ’ He’s spilling secrets that he REALLY shouldn’t. Jackson laughs for a moment as the memory forms, and he FULLY remembers it all. ‘𝖧𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗇 𝗂𝗍 . . .’ LAUGHTER can’t help make its way into such an inappropriate conversation, and maybe it’s because he’s ALWAYS been intimate with death. DEATH has always been the promise at the end of his life. ‘ 𝖸’𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗂𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗍 𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗂𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝖾𝗉𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁, 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝖾𝗂𝗋𝖽, 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 ? ’
Body sinks more into chair as he puts down the beer for just a moment, and readjusts the chair position. Head now level with legs as he looks right up into the BIG, beautiful sky. ‘ 𝖨’𝗏𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖿𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝗂𝗍 . . . 𝖧𝖤𝖫𝖯𝖲 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖽. 𝖤𝗑𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗂𝗉𝖺𝗍𝖾. 𝖭𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇’ 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇. ’ A LIE , the part about being left behind.
@pekkt / meme.