‘‘behold the brave battalion who stand side by side too few in number and too proud to hide the say to the others who did not follow through you're still our brother and we will fight for you.’’
— lyrics from seize the day (newsies soundtrack)
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‘‘behold the brave battalion who stand side by side too few in number and too proud to hide the say to the others who did not follow through you're still our brother and we will fight for you.’’
— lyrics from seize the day (newsies soundtrack)
Hamlet, Act I, Scene 5, lines 100-108
i’ve been thinking too much about the peteymillsy of it all, like…
we know it’s not as big of a deal as the media makes it out to be, but what if is? you and i will both deny it, pretend like everything’s fine, but is it?
it’s hockey. it’s canada. it’s the vancouver canucks, a team that has never lifted the cup, has only been to the playoffs once in the last 4 seasons. tell me last year wasn’t a fluke. tell me it’s not crumbling, what we’ve built for the last 6 years playing together. better yet, show me.
this team needs both of us to win, but apparently only one of us actually wants it. you act like you don’t want to win, then go for hour-long solo skates post-practice. where is the fruit of your labor? why are you all practice, all potential, no performance? why are you so sarcastic, so grating, so young?
i’ve been in the league too long and played too well to have such little success. i hate that this team needs both of us to win. i need you to play right. i wish i knew better ways to help you, better ways than sniping and griping and roughing you up during practice. but i’m just as desperate as vancouver is, ready to burn everything to the ground.
the media is desperate too, ready to tear into our flesh, to blow things out of proportion, to distort and distract. stay off the phone stay off the goddamn phone. you used to look too much and now you don’t look at all. good for you. now i’m the one with noise between my ears. i needed to get away so i took a leave, which you never did, despite everything. what does that say about me, about you?
and what about us? glowering looks across the locker room. passing shoves in the hallway. were we always like this? surely not. when did things change between us? does it matter? i hate your flimsiness and you hate my temper. but i know you’ve got one too. i know you.
i wish we weren’t so similar. i wish you weren’t so sulky. i wish you didn’t always think it was you versus the world. i wish you weren’t so soft and so cold. i wish you felt your emotions on the outside like me. i wish we weren’t so different. i wish my heart didn’t boil over. i wish my passion didn’t always turn into anger. i wish i knew a softer way to be hungry. i wish i felt my emotions on the inside like you.
can’t live with you, can’t live without you. don’t have a choice anyway. tomorrow you’ll go up to the media, bear their questions like pellets, say there’s nothing wrong stop asking it’s getting old. and i’ll do the same.
if anyone says another mean thing about him im gonna start killing
“come on, miller time!!” - my mom
AND THEN HE DOES LETS GO MOTHER!!!
‘‘Well, it's a sorry sight when the one you love is looking back at you from the arms of another.’’
- lyrics from backwards by the rare occasions
JT MOTHER FUCKING MILLER!!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️