#senitment

[westerosi-bitch]

the montage of Jim and Pam just made me a little weepy 

[aomiarmster]

Rid yourself of sentimental nonsense.

...you live longer.

Perhaps happier...

[pairaudeux-blog-blog]

 Some Pastoral Images for a rain Sunday afternoon....

They had known for sometime now that there apparently existed a place where the sun colored the mountains that purple, pink of twilight the entire night. The sun never went down and people could be found fishing in the fjords at any point in the day, or night, a distinction that never needed to be made. They had known because they had been told and they believed because they had no reason not to. It was easy enough. Both of them had different reasons for dreaming of the place in daydreams and night dreams and all other times when thoughts just wandered. She had wanted to climb the peaks. He had wanted to swim in the water. Together they wanted to roll around inside each other on the grassy mountainsides while flies swarmed around them like sheep. They thought they too could catch fish at any time in the day or night and gut them and hang them to dry outside their tent, or small cabin they would eventually build if they liked a spot enough to stay there and they would heat the fish over the open fire and season the meal with blueberries from blueberry patches in the surrounding woods and different leaves of mint they would identify the uses of in that book they'd bought here, at Border's before it went out of business. They slept together each night in their single bedroom apartment with the posters beginning to peel off the walls in the corners taking turns telling each other what they would do if they were in that place tonight, that night. And they would go on for hours, talking about the air and the wind and the birds and the occasional moose they would see crossing their path, and once they both cried thinking about the moose and how big it would seem in comparison and how small and happy they would feel and how the moose wouldn't likely even realize they were staring at it. But they would be, staring intently, holding each others hands and crying, but not consciously, more those sort of tears that happen to fall from the eyes and stream across cheeks, entirely unaware. And they would both eventually fall asleep in each other’s stories in the night, reaffirming the other that the place did in fact exist, and that they would go there one day and stay.