#rufus sixmith

[liznt]

//increasingly tenuous metaphors 

Every evening King's chapel and the sky go to battle to prove who is the most magnificent creation. They sit together on the wall in front of it eating chips because it was warm and because the sun had finally stayed up for tea. Frobisher scoffs, "The sheer power and magnitude of the sun easily out does any pile of rocks put here by humans." Sixmith rolls his eyes, he smiles, he tries not to think about the fact that Frobisher ought to be in his lap rather than leaning into his shoulder.

Truly they both know that it is not a battle. King's chapel was built reaching towards the sky. An exultation, not a challenge. Joyous, the sun shines down on the chapel and paints him in rich gold. Every evening the chapel and the sun tower together, the peace of the sky and the power of the earth. Each together more than either alone. 

[liznt]

Your body is on a train out of London, but you died in the bathroom of a seedy apartment. It was one thousand years ago. It was three days ago. Your hands tangled in blood black hair. It was yours, but not your own.

Your hair is golden blond, the colour of angels, but you are not angel. You did not run up the stairs. Your fatal flaw. You heard the end. You did not run in time. Did not run for your life (your love).

[procraxtinator]

My Dearest Sixsmith, Its done. Finished in a frenzy that reminded me of our last night in Cambridge. Watched my final sunrise, enjoyed my last cigarette. Didn’t think that you could be any more perfect until I saw the beat up trilby. Honestly Sixsmith, as ridiculous as that thing makes you look, I don’t think I have seen anything more beautiful. Watched you for as long as I dared. I don’t believe it was a fluke that I saw you first. I believe there is another world waiting for us, Sixsmith, a better world, and I’ll be waiting for you there. I believe we do not stay dead long. Find me beneath the course of the stars where we first kissed. Yours eternally, R.F.

Robert Frobisher's letters to Rufus Sixsmith - Cloud Atlas

[patasdeeconejo]

''Algo tan importante como esto, no puede ser descrito como tuyo o mío. Es nuestro.''

[rainair]

[tripinsidethefilm]

Lucid Dreams | via Tumblr su We Heart It. http://weheartit.com/entry/64234938/via/Rodolphys

[bottled-veritaserum-blog]

Pride, that I shall see it through. Certainties. Strip back the beliefs pasted on by governesses, schools and states, you find indelible truths at one’s core. Rome’ll decline and fall again, Cortezar’ll sail again and, later, Ewing will too, Adrian’ll be blown to pieces again, you and I’ll sleep under Corsican stars again, I’ll come to Bruges again, fall in and out of love with Eva again, you’ll read this letter again, the Sun’ll grow cold again. Nietzsche’s gramophone record. When it ends, the Old One plays it again, for an eternity of eternities. Time cannot permeate this sabbatical. We do not stay dead long. Once my Luger lets me go, my birth, next time around will be upon me in a heartbeat. In thirteen years from now we’ll meet again at Gresham, ten years later I’ll be back in this same room, holding this same gun, composing this same letter, my resolution as perfect as my many-headed sextet. Such elegant certainties comfort me. (Letters from Zedelghem)

[pati79]