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Past - Blog Posts
Ceux qui ne peuvent se rappeler le passé sont condamnés à le répéter.
Georges Santayana
John is haunted by ghost of his past, still, but he is not going to let it disturb the future of his little Rosie Visual analysis. For @221b ° ° ° #SummerOfSherlock #johnwatson #221b #sherlockart #sherlockholmes #myartwork #портрет #draw #artwork #artist #drawing #art #ink #sketchbook #colores #myart #instaartist #arts #artbook #nikanygaard #sketch #скетчбук #скетч #sketches #instaart #artistininstagram #soldier #ghost #past #TheGameIsOn
Dylan Goodman Age 12 and Age 15 Dylan Goodman used to be the school bad boy and bully. People were scared of him and he liked it. Now Dylan is trying to make up for his past mistakes and he's realised just how stupid he was. He goes back to his old school and meets Jamie Hunter, a girl he once bullied. Despite their differences they become friends but Dylan is shocked at how much Jamie has changed. He knows she's unhappy and he wants to help her but she just pushes him away. Dylan's also got a few things from the past coming back to haunt him...
I’m reflecting. Where old relationships just don’t seem to click anymore, and others grew with me. Currently at a stand still with a long time friend, feelin’ bittersweet. Orlando, Fl February 18, 2015. #bittersweet #photography #imissthis #past (at Orlando, Florida) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bvyl2kiBmYF/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=wp70ggytazkt
I keep bouncing between non functional gay ships to another non functional gay ship.
Like excuse me how have I gone from radiodust (don't ship that anymore), to billford, to maby possibly viran and arravos???
Sometimes
Sometimes I wish you hadn’t died.
You left him so broken, beyond repair.
It was all I could do to keep him afloat,
treading water, a burden too heavy
for me to lift. You left him drowning
in unspoken love, unable to let go of
a deflated life preserver.
Sometimes I wonder what you’d think of me.
If you could would you thank me or would
you tell me that I could never heal him?
It was my job to gather the wreckage
you left behind. I taught him to love again,
but I could never teach him to let go.
I could never empty the ocean of hurt.
Sometimes I believe we could have been friends.
He clung to me too, driftwood in the open sea.
We must have something in common. He said
he thought I would like you. Even when his
heart was sore and his lungs were filled,
drowning in the memory of you. Friend,
can I tell you a secret?
Sometimes I hate you more than anything.
I hate what you did to him. I hate that no matter
how far away you are he can’t let go of you.
I hate that he will always love you, how he
doesn’t know how not to love you. I hate
you for dying – not that you chose to die. I wish
you had chosen. Maybe then he’d accept it.
Sometimes I feel like the other woman.
He’s still swimming through the waves,
fighting the current to get to you as if he
doesn’t realize you’ve already been pulled under.
I try to bring him back to shore, to my safe
harbor, but he’s still anchored in you.
Sometimes I think you are selfish.
When you had him you took him for granted,
and yet you held him tight enough to keep
him clinging to you like a buoy out at sea,
clinging to you for air. And now he still clings.
You can’t tell him to let go. Not that you would.
Sometimes I wish he had never met you.
Sometimes I am happy that you’re dead.
Sometimes I wish you never existed.
Note To Society #13
Your past may explain your negative actions, but under no circumstances does it excuse them. If you do something wrong, you will be held accountable, regardless of your tragic backstory.
Wilfords Warfstache’s sad origin/past who knew it wouldn’t be them in disguise but an actual backstory. Poor Wilfred.
As if I wasn’t procrastinating enough, here’s a picture for a story I’ll probably never write!
