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“You can’t love me,” I tell him, my voice full of denial. “I can.” No argument. No added detail. Just a vow. “You don’t want me really,” I argue. “I do.” “You won’t always.” “I will.”
Osrik and Rissa you have my heart
“Your last name is going to be Ferox soon, because that’s mine.”
MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN
King Midas may always be remembered for his golden touch, but I will always remember him for the way that touch destroyed. He wasn’t a gift of wealth. He was a curse of unending greed.
The way we circled back to continue to slander Midas in this one is giving me life
There is no growth without rot. There is no sun without the dark sky. And there is no me without her.
Interrupting their celebration, a voice suddenly booms from behind the stage. “The only thing you’re going to be is under arrest for committing treason against the good and benevolent King Carrick!” Two actors dressed as guards come on the stage, wooden swords painted to look like marble. “We won’t let you evil, selfish Turley traitors ruin Annwyn!” People cheer. This is ridiculous, dumbed-down, and openly vulgarized propaganda. And yet, the crowd is eating it up.
I think I’ve seen this film before…
“Why is it that some men seem to shake their heads and say don’t worry? As if it is a woman’s affliction?”
Clock it Malina
The grief is too close for us to get a good look at it yet. The wound too fresh. None of us know what to do with it. None of us know how to move around the empty space he’s left in our group. Maybe we never will. Maybe sometimes, time doesn’t help. It just…stretches. Widens the gap between the loss and the after.
Nobody talk to me
