#pg 185

[hyeoni-comb]

He pulled away, faced pinched. “I’m not really here,” he whispered. “You are, Wallace.” Three words, and Wallace wasn’t sure he’d ever heard anything more profound. “Am I?” “Yes.” “What does that mean?” “I can’t tell you that,” Hugo said. “I wish I could. All I can do is show you the path before you, and help you make your own decisions.” “What if I make the wrong one?” “Then we start again,” Hugo said. “And hope for the best.”

from Under the Whispering Door by TJ Klune

[mistbornbaby]

It feels like with each new chapter that starts with Vin’s perspective, we’re getting a deeper understanding of the world around her as she comes to recognize more truths about it. I love it; it’s like I get to grow with her.

[perkwunos]

Alfred North Whitehead, Process and Reality, Part II, Chapter IX, Section I

[roughlycapricious]

you can’t hide in your melancholy world of D minor, forever

madisen kuhn, eighteen years

[sleepycicada]

sigh.. idk Alderpaw. idk.

[wildride-comic]

185

[owlistic]

Somebody once told me that racism hurts everyone. Perhaps in the broader sense of community, this is true. All I know is that it seems to hurt some much more than others.

The Inconvenient Indian by Thomas King

[blissofcydonia]

I'd lived eighteen years in a season called sadness where the weather never changed. I guess I believed it was the only season I deserved. I don't know how but something started to happen. Something around me. Something inside me. Something beautiful. Something really, really beautiful.

Another Season from Last Night I Sang To The Monster by Benjamin Alire Sáenz