Who cares about the hidden messages of fascism and oppression when you can have a LOVE STORY— everyone involved in The Giver, probably (via ceremonial-lungs)
I don’t know what movie you were watching because that’s not what I took from it and I HAVE read the book.
It’s been six months, half a year today since my mother died. I’m closer to her now than I ever was.
The days leading up to the 12th of every month are like a slow crescendo to madness.
Yesterday, I was zoning out looking at my mother’s things on this shelf that I dedicated to her. My best friend in the entire world (besides my sister) was with me and asked me if I was OK. I said sometimes I can’t believe there isn’t one place on this earth where I can find my mother, that she is completely gone. But my friend said she is always with me close by. She then began to talk about her grandparents that she lost and so the bonds grew deeper and tighter between us.
In the middle of our conversation she received a text message. Staring at her phone she covers her mouth and says, “Oh my god Robin Williams is dead!” From apparent suicide. This was my breaking point.
5 more months to go in 2014 and I wouldn’t be surprised if death comes again. But I wouldn’t be able to cope if it did.