When I say I ship something, I don’t care about the happily ever after. I don’t care about romantic comedies or princess movies with a seamless love arc and a fairytale ending. That isn’t what I’m in it for.
I’m not a sucker for love stories. I’m a sucker for character stories.
I want to read a story in which the characters don’t fit perfectly. Where they complement each other when they’re happy but tear themselves apart in desperate situations. Where their relationship is healthy but not always, equal but not always, happy but not always.
I want to see characters suffer because that’s how I know they’re real.
I don’t ship to be happy. I ship to feel real. I ship because I love relationship dynamics, not relationships themselves. That’s why I don’t just have otps. I have brotps and dream teams and favorite family dynamics and favorite characters alone.
I ship because I like to see how a given character will respond to another given character in any given situation. I like to see how they mesh together, how their personalities match and mismatch, how they push and pull at each other and then come together or fall apart.
I don’t ship for the what of the situation. I ship for the how and the why. Don’t give me characters waywardly thrown together for the perfect puzzle-piece ending. Give me the two people who would seemingly never fit. Make it work. I don’t want fireworks or fairytales. I want realism. Passion and lack thereof. Heat and coldness and love and hate.
Don’t give me love. Give me character. Don’t just tell me. Convince me.
I walked outside and stuck my tongue out into the wind, I tasted you, rust, depth, earthy, you’ve been had, you’ve been kissed and I taste her lips on your lips and in the wind, I starve, staring out into the city, sky scrapers touch more than you and I ever did,
I laid my face against the concrete, and I felt you I felt you as she must feel you now, tough, cold, and worn, I cry, staring at the tires of a taxi destined to no man’s land, the wheels touch this earth more than you and I ever did…
I sat on the subway, staring into the eyes of an old white man, wrinkles making homes in his pale face, collecting around his ancient eyes, I stared at him, and in him I saw you, tired, historic, a body that told tales, hands that felt the sky, eyes that witnessed the tragedy of this world, and yet this man, is closer to me, than you have ever been, I sighed,
Today, I rejoiced, I sang a song off tune, clapped off beat, I swayed with my words, laughed at my foolishness, and I remembered that you wouldn’t mind, I bet she doesn’t mind you, your thick black hair falling within the spaces her fingers have made, she gets it, she gets you, she dances with you, her tongue tracing the inside of your walls, and I desperate, hungry, and detached search for you in the sky, wonder for you in the streets,
plot twist: just when Victoria Foyt begins write up “Save the Pearls”, the most beautiful hands rests itself upon hers. Surprised by such a presence, she looks up and finds herself gazing into the immaculate face of Kanye West. “No” he whispers. A single tear drop rolls down her cheek.”Ok” she she says and proceeds to sleep for a thousand years.
The world never hears of “Save the Pearls” ever again.
“Realize you can be happy this moment for no reason. Otherwise, you eternally depend on conditions for happiness. Unconscious of this moment, you remain a victim of circumstances.”—Arthur D. Saftlas (x)
“Aurora” is dedicated to those who lost their lives and were affected by the tragedy in Aurora, Colorado. I recorded this song in London in the days following the tragedy as a heartfelt tribute to the victims and their families. 100% of the proceeds will be donated to Aurora Victim Relief organization. The track is available on iTunes and you can download and donate here.
Beijing:we want lights and precision and a good clean night
London:FUCK IT LETS MAKE IT THE SHIRE AND GET FRANK TURNER! AND LETS MAKE THE WHOLE THING VICTORIAN, BRING LOCKHEART TOO ONLY IF HE HAS A TOP HAT, MUSTN'T FORGET JK ROWLING AND BRING MR BEAN TOO ONLY IF YOU DO A CHARIOT OF FIRE MONTAGE. DAMMIT LETS HAVE A SHIT TON OF LIGHTY BEDS AND ABOUT 12 MARY POPPINS, NOW WE MUST MONTAGE BRILLIANT ENGLISH MUSIC AND THROW A SLIGHT TARDIS NOISE TO THROW THE WHOVIANS INTO PANDEMONIUM, ALSO WE MUST QUOTE THE HUNGER GAMES TO TRY AND BRING BACK THE DISTRICTS NOW LETS GET THE QUEEN AND JAMES BOND, OH FUCK IT THROW THEM OUT OF A PLANE, ITS OUR OLYMPICS AND THIS IS WHAT WE SHALL DO WITH IT, YOU KNOW WHY? BECAUSE FUCK YOU THAT'S WHY