The Past - Tumblr Posts
Librarian Derek and Police Officer Stiles. That's just too adorable! And look what raikea-art made!! :o
I know I shouldn’t miss him but I do. I’m not sure if I miss the memories we created together, or who I thought he was. All I want is to forget about him. But how can I forget about him if he gave me so much to remember?
Both the past and the future need to be taken care of.
However, not so much that the past overtakes the future and the future overlooks the past.
Not so much that they overwhelm the present.
(from "An Artist")
An artist is not who's beautiful.
An artist is who makes a mess.
I have a poor mind and always struggled with grasping causality.
Instead of writing, made a mess.
Instead of an artist, became a pathetic fool.
June 4, 1896. Henry Ford completes the Ford Quadricycle, his first gasoline-powered automobile, and gives it a successful test run.
My grandfather, 1898.
“Reinhardt, you know I had a poster of you on my wall when I was younger…”
“I remember that poster!”…….
“MY HAIR WAS AMAZING”
Now
Write me a poem, the story of your life Tell me everything you hid from yourself The lies, the secrets, the loves, the losses Write it all down in the blood of the past And then read it aloud for all to hear.
I have to stop this traveling back in time. The past can be exhausting.
@soulinkpoetry
I’m tired
.
.
Figmentary Feelings - Adam Stanheight / Reader
A/N Another one of Melanie Martinez’s songs, called Haunted, inspired this. Omg, I think I need help with this addiction.
Spirals spun in the walls, the air smelled smokey, the atmosphere was crisp, and the scenery was foggy. You sat in Adam’s apartment dazedly, not fully awake, and tried to solve the crossword puzzle that was displayed on your phone. You had found three words.
It had been a month since you had gotten proper sleep. Tiredness tugged at your eyes, but you kept them open. You didn’t want to sleep, but you were lucky; you couldn’t sleep - not anymore.
Adam Faulkner Stanheight was supposed to come home four weeks ago. The newspapers had announced him dead two weeks ago, but you didn’t want to believe it. Adam’s belongings were still situated in their proper places, it was as if he was still here. There couldn’t have been a way that he wasn’t ALIVE anymore. You refused to believe it.
But alas, four weeks was a long time. Adam still hadn’t come home, something that occurs when a person dies, the evidence couldn’t have been more clear.
You ignored the bright lights flashing in your eyes, or the ringing in your ears, and focused on finding the next word. It was ‘lightbulb,’ and you discovered this after about twenty failed attempts.
You put the phone in your pocket. You had a visitor coming over today. You didn’t know who it was, the landlady only said you had someone coming over. You wondered why the said ‘visitor’ hadn’t given you a heads up on their supposed arrival.
You got to your feet numbly. Immediately you spotted the black couch in the living room, and your heart sank low. You could remember when you would watch horror movies with Adam on Friday nights. You could remember when you would come home and find Adam smoking a cigarette after a shitty day ATTEMPTING to take good pictures of his clients but his camera’s lens had been dusty or misty, making it difficult. This was a common case.
There were also the moments when you would find yourselves laughing and joking with one another on the couch. Sometimes it would lead to tickling, other times it would lead to making-out. The mood decided it.
You turned harshly, hearing Adam’s voice in your ears. You flinched, but you could hear his words so clearly, so… real. You groaned in agony. “I love you.” But your words were met with silence.
You turned around and made for the kitchen, but this was also a bad idea. Adam’s presence was here, too. You could sense him standing by the oven, leaning on it with his back, and gazing at you while you tied an apron around your waist and walked over. There were many times when you would bake together. Adam had never liked cooking or baking but he seemed to have fun when he was with you.
Usually you made pies or cakes, but sometimes you would make dinner together. Those were the best nights. It was always inspired by the thought that you would play a game together. You had plenty of cards and boards in the gaming cabinet, it was more thrilling to cook dinner together first though. It helped to ripen the mood.
Right now you swore you could almost smell a baking pumpkin pie, but you knew that couldn’t be true. The oven was off, and you hadn’t gone to the store in at least two weeks.
You left the kitchen then, hurriedly, and headed for the bedroom. It was dark, and though most of your time spent here was sleeping, you still got a lot of memories. Memories you would have preferred to have left untouched. This was not because they were bad memories. In fact every memory you had with Adam was beautiful, even the bad ones, but that only spelled out the problem. You didn’t want to remember them because they were good, way too fucking good. And you couldn’t stand that.
The first thing that came to your mind was the time when you got locked out of the bedroom. The lights were off, and all you had was the sunlight shining in from the living room window. It was bright enough, but now that you thought of it, why hadn’t you turned on the lights? In the end, you ended up having to take the door off its hinges because you couldn’t find the key. But because neither of you could reach the last hinge on the top, you had to stand on Adam’s shoulders and use the screwdriver to undo it. You had felt really unsteady in that moment. The noise the door made when it fell to the floor was so loud, it was memorable. You shuttered.
You stumbled forward a little as a barrage of more images went through your mind. They were different from the last one. All of them were of Adam sitting patiently for you on the bed. Either he was sitting or laying but in some way or another there was something quite risque about his positioning. You grit your teeth hard, trying not to feel…
Well that was just it. You didn’t want to feel. You were trying not to. The statement was fine as it was, but… what you had been thinking was more like: ‘I don’t want to feel sad anymore.’
Both sentences were true.
Those weren’t the only things you recalled. You could still see Adam by the dresser as he picked out a dress for you to wear. And you could see him reaching for his camera on the bedside table.
He was staying up all night with you when you couldn’t sleep.
He was holding you tightly as you cried into his shoulder in the dark.
He was stroking your hair after a long, late, night.
He was pushing you to the mattress very dominantly - it wouldn’t have lasted very long though.
He was kissing you.
He was caressing you.
He was making you feel something, you know the kind.
And he was touching you, feeling you.
Your eyes stretched wide at the recollections. You backed away tensely, not even glancing at the master bathroom, and slammed the door closed. You were cursed to feel Adam’s hands and mouth on your body. Desperately, but failingly, you tried to ignore it.
You ran out the door, but it felt wrong. It was like Adam was still inside calling you to come back. And you clasped your hands together tightly. What the hell were you still doing here? You should have left long ago, like your therapist had told you.
You began to make moving plans. Hopefully you would be out of here by next week.
I’m sorry, Adam. I’m leaving you here. But just know that I will always love you. I would never stop. I just… need to get away from here, you thought miserably. It was about time you moved out anyway.
You got into the car and started driving. All you needed was some fresh air, and a long drive with the windows down. This was your escape.
When Adam had been with you he had always insisted on driving. But you hadn’t seen his car since he went missing. You only had yours now.
You connected your phone to the blue-tooth speaker. Your car speakers had died a long time ago, so you had bought a blue-tooth speaker. It worked well enough but it wasn’t like the car speakers, unfortunately.
You shuffled the playlist, and let it play. You didn’t have the energy to care about listening to your favorite songs first; whatever song played, played.
This was one of those times. The first song that played was a song you had forgotten about. It was Melanie Martinez’s song, “Haunted,” and you listened to it intently. Your heartbeat started hammering anxiously once you heard the lyrics again. It made you feel cold on the inside, and a little bit daunted by the real world. You wanted to crawl into your bed and feel nothing ever again.
This song was depressing! You realized it morbidly as the lyrics started.
“I could pull the sheets over my head and never get out of this bed. But what would that do?”
You rounded a corner quickly, but not too sharply.
“I avoid all mirrors ‘cause I’m scared to look into my eyes when I only see you.”
You inhaled painfully.
“It’s like you're always creeping on the walls and in my feelings. All those stories about ghosts are really true.”
You slammed on the brakes suddenly as the light changed red. You didn’t know where you were going.
“I put one foot in front of the other, in front of the other.”
You gazed around. There were people walking with their families on the sidewalks, there were cars with people laughing in them, there were stores with happy customers, there were children waiting at the bus stop together. But your life seemed so excruciatingly low right now, you didn’t even know how to comprehend it.
“Slowly, I turn every corner, turn every corner. Even when you’re nowhere in the room, I’m haunted by you.”
You tried not to relate, but the deeper meaning was too pressuring.
“I light all my candles, light all my candles. The darkness is too hard to handle, too hard to handle.”
You were losing your mind, listening to this. What the fuck, this song hit way too close to home, you needed out of here.
“Sleeping is just something I can’t do. I’m haunted by you.”
You were crying by the time the light turned green.
“I can hear your talking in the distance, your persistence is so cruel. And all your words pull at my feet and I fall back in love with you.”
Your hands trembling, you crashed them against the dashboard, thrashing and searching for the volume. You found it and twisted it violently to the right. The music got louder, and you screamed in shock. You could feel Adam’s arms around you still as you tried to breathe. Honking erupted from behind you, and other drivers started going around. You fumbled with the volume again, after your shock had worn away, and turned it off completely. That was enough for today. Now it was time to go home, and try to get some sleep.
You made a U-Turn at the intersection, and drove home in the silence. Your heart was the only sound you could hear, or even concentrate on. It was so loud you thought everyone could hear it.
Once safely inside the apartment, you grabbed a blanket, and a hot cider, and laid down on the couch. You had made it about a quarter of the way through your cider when you rested your head on the pillow. It was soft and squishy, and perfect. The spirals in your vision disappeared finally, and the atmosphere warmed up. Your mind was getting the sleep it needed at last.
Hopefully in the morning you’d be able to round the corner to the bathroom without getting lost in memory lane. That was something you had yet to accomplish, but right now you had achieved sleeping. Your therapist would be thrilled.