I like receiving letters from you, I really do. But every time I get one it’s like everything is happening again. The dreams start again, the thoughts that maybe I could’ve done something, the paranoia that I’m being watched all the time. It’s like I’ve been successful at running away from it all, and your letters bring everything back. Just when I’m feeling responsible and actually doing everything for school and feeling like I’m actually going somewhere in life, your letters make me feel useless. I want to be here for you, I really do. I don’t want you to be all lonely in that ugly place. I want to let you know how everything in the outside world is, what movies are playing, how stupid Republicans are, what books we can read together. But then I don’t. Then I start thinking maybe I should stop talking to you altogether. Maybe I should stop visiting you. Maybe I shouldn’t care so much about you and care more about myself and my feelings of all this. Then I remember all the good times and laughs we had and how we went everywhere and did everything together. I remember your parents being so grateful that I was still here for you, and I feel like a sucky person. This uneasiness and these contradicting feelings don’t come until you send a stupid fucking letter. And sometimes I wish you wouldn’t send them at all.
Go to Starbucks. Order coffee for “Prisoner 24601”
When they call out your order, jump up and yell “My name is Jean Valjean!”
And if the barista replies with “AND I’M JAVERT,” you tip that motherfucker so hard
you tip them right over the edge of a bridge
you fucking didn’t
my dads renovating his kitchen and he called me out of my room to help him but when i came out
so i called him and
IM PSSING MYSELF HES JUST CHILLING IN THE ROOF HE DIDNT EVEN NEED MY HELP OMFG
what if u needed glasses but u had no ears
but she has ears
but she’s prepared in case she loses them
“how did you lose your virginity?”
It’s 3am. I was not prepared for this post.
it’s midday and i wasn’t prepared for this post
In Berlin, after World War II, money was short, supplies were tight, and it seemed like everyone was hungry. At that time, people were telling the tale of a young woman who saw a blind man picking his way through a crowd. The two started to talk. The man asked her for a favor: could she deliver the letter to the address on the envelope? Well, it was on her way home, so she agreed.
She started out to deliver the message, when she turned around to see if there was anything else the blind man needed. But she spotted him hurrying through the crowd without his smoked glasses or white cane. She was, naturally, suspicious, so she went to the police.
When the police paid a visit to the address on the envelope, they made a gruesome discovery, three butchers had been harvesting human flesh and selling it to the starving people.
And what was in the envelope the man gave to the woman? A note, saying simply “This is the last one I am sending you today.”
IT TOOK ME A SECOND TO REALIZE WHAT THE LETTER MEANT AND NOW IM FREAKING OUT
That’s fucking terrifying.
This post has been featured on a 1000notes.com blog.