probably the best text i’ve ever received
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Red is love, but also bloodshed. Pain and Wholeness. Red is the color of the rose he passes to you over dinner; the color of her dress as you dip her on the dance floor. Red is his sash as he defiantly yells that the battle has yet to be one; and the color of his chest when he finally forfeits the fight. Red is the flush in her cheeks when she gazes up to meet your eyes. Red is the glint off of the window of the cathedral that represents so much more to him than it ever will to you. Red is the shadow against the payment when you realize that you’re not quite good enough yet. Red is the excess from her wrists and the drops on the floor, spelling out her struggles against the bathroom door. Red is the gloss on her lips as she hides the nights spent crying from you. Red is his love for her and her’s for him. Red is the wholeness through the breakage.
The sun breaks, sending streaks of gold though the eyes, lenses and windows of man. All has seen the depth of the beach, the blanket of dust, cast through springtime. Dandelions sprout in the front yard of a suburban home, through the open front door, a boy chases his blond brother, laughing as his mom calls in complaining about the unkept toilet. Two streets over, newlyweds decide on the bold paint color, and finally convince their second half to complete the excursion. The house shines from block to block, like a flower reaching for the sun, reflecting happiness. Four blocks away, a student colors in their stick-figures, due to lack of a better color. In the higher grade, she is mocked for racism, that this color was a sign of hatred and prejudice, she never knew colors
Black is the color of the tires rolling steadily along the road, as well as their seemingly frictionless track. Black is the color of the truck, and the sky above the open freeway, save for a few holes to heaven. Black is the color of her dress as she raises her arms high above her head, reaching for the impossible holes in the ceiling of her world. Black is the color of his nearly-perfectly tailored jacket and he holds one hand on the wheel, desperately wishing to have his eyes on her and hers on him instead of the nothingness ahead. Black are the bruises across his arms. Black is her skin. Black is his heart away from her. Black is the approaching bridge, save for a few sparks to warn those oncoming. Anything but black is his desire as he allows himself one look back. Black is their future as the black bridge sparks red. Black are the bruises on her head. Black are the bruises on his arms. Black is all they see.
Follow peoples above and Our-realm
Also, John Green is having a child. I know most of you already know this but it’s John Green, he is always worth mentioning.
ladies. be careful when u wear spaghetti straps. it might distract the boys. they’ll start thinking of spaghetti. they will get hungry. they will stop at nothing to get their spaghetti.
TEXTS FROM CAS
Cas doesn’t get ‘knock knock’ jokes
LAUGHING MY F*CKING ASS OFF OH MY GOD
THE PHOTO I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR SINCE I WAS THIRTEEN
these are the droids were looking for
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