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World on Fire (2019).

#YOU WATCH ME {self} #BECAUSE IT MAKES US FEEL SOMETHING {wendla}

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Louise Glück, from “Vita Nova”

#THE ART OF SLEEPING WITH {musings} #WO DER WIND SPIELT {moritz} #HOW OBSESSIVELY EVERYONE FIXES ON THAT STORY {general sa content}

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[sms: Moritz Stiefel] Lol. I’m not even that busy right now. I’ve written enough, I think. I’ll let my mind relax with some mindless texting. So who was it? They certainly haven’t texted me about it. What’s going on?

[sms: Moritz Stiefel] If it’s something about me, I’d really like to know, lol. You’re my friend, right? Won’t you tell me?

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[sms: Moritz Stiefel] Hey, Moritz, it’s okay. Consider it ignored. Lol, you have to be more careful!

[sms: Moritz Stiefel] But, uh… who were you talking about?

[sms: Moritz Stiefel] Who’s not in what mood?

[sms: Moritz Stiefel] Lol. Okay.

[sms;; melchior] sorry!! phone died. umm, sort of awkward. someone was texting me about you and idk it seemed stupid so like… probably would have annoyed you haha it’s dumb anyway…

[sms;; melchior] so i just told them not to bother you with it like cause … it’s dumb. and you said you were writing so you’re busy anyway

#(GOD this is so insidious i'm sorry) #(melchior's text vc is so unsettling it made me Physically Sick to write this) #(also he's hella manipulative but we know this) #(don't call it a comeback) #andessence #A SONG OF WHAT'S TO FOLLOW {modern verse}

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Melchior is taken aback. We’ll scratch that book idea, I guess. He takes time thinks of a new tactic, sitting quietly for what must feel like an eternity. At one point, he loses his train of thought and watches Moritz fidget while she pretends not to see Melchior. He could watch her forever... but now is the time for action. This is clearly a crisis, and his heart aches for his friend.

You should go home. Melchior smiles wistfully. He’s almost compelled to listen — To leave — to abandon his friend in her time of need. But he knows her. He knows her to an upsetting degree. And to leave now would be unacceptable behavior towards someone that Melchior values so much. He knows that she pushes people away — perhaps this is why he tries even harder to be her friend. He loves the chase; he loves the concept of being the victor. This is his heaven, breaking over him.

“Moritz... come on. I don’t want to go home. Who ever does? And you, of all people, know that no one can make me do what I don’t want to do.”

An interlude. A shift. This is a good path.

“It is easier out here, alone — it’s quiet; it’s calm. It feels as as if you’re in full command of yourself — which we never seem to be when we’re at home. I sometimes almost wish that my home were here — right by the river. Feeling the rain and the water soak you to the skin... like in the Golden World, all would be free, and safe, and right.

“All this to say — I’m not going anywhere. But we can stay here, together, for as long as you’d like.”

Every drop of rain seems to underscore his words. He hopes that his monologue is an acceptable pittance, considering Moritz’ current juncture. He’s unsure what Moritz is feeling, exactly, as she’s never acted this way before. Usually she’s more receptive to his attempts to sedate her, but this — this is something different. Her body language is terrifying; her aloofness borders on antagonistic. This is all the more reason for him to stay. 

“What did you want to clear your head of? Can we speak about that?”

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Melchior, though initially too distracted to be daunted, is still confused by Moritz’ reaction. Normally, she can barely hold in her excitement to see him, but right now he’s receiving the opposite reaction — almost one of fear, of derision. Her distress is not uncharacteristic, though it’s heightened to a point that Melchior can just barely remember having seen before.

Presently, he knows his duty as a friend: to calm Moritz down as best he can. (It’s a duty that he gladly accepts.) Her panic attacks are not uncommon, and the two have a sort of ritual that usually helps: first, the breathing exercises. then, when she can abide human touch: the holding of hands, the closing of eyes. The meditation on the wholesome and innocuous: whipped cream, poetry, wildlife. And then the therapyesque airing of grief. A tried and true scientific method. I should write a book, he thinks briefly. 

Melchior slowly lowers himself onto his haunches, and then takes a seat in the wet grass next to Moritz. Not too close. And he definitely makes sure to avoid touching her again. 

“I really didn’t mean to scare you — I’ve been here maybe a minute, and I promise, I wasn’t watching. I was just on my way home, and I saw — well, just a figure, but I knew it had to be you. I’d know it was you from a million miles.”

He casts a furtive glance toward Moritz, and sees that she is looking away. Fuck. He continues.

“Moritz — I don’t… I don’t know why you’re out here. You don’t have to tell me. I’m not sure what you’ve lost, or what you’re looking for. But I-” He swallows. Hard. “I’m glad I found you. All today I’ve been wondering where you were. Not just me — everyone, teachers, students — anyway, I wanted to say that I’m glad I found you out here, even if you’re not. There were brief moments of panic today where I thought I’d never see you again, and I just wasn’t prepared for that.”

A silence. Nothing but the rain — no footsteps on the ground. He’s listening, but there’s no sound, save for the river and two thunderous heartbeats, slightly out of sync. It’s a damn cold night, Melchior thinks.

“Moritz? Will you breathe with me?”

She could tear her hair out! If her hardships hadn’t already driven her to try and shoot herself the RUSTLE of grass as Melchior sits down beside her might have just as well done the trick; the grass, his voice, the closeness, the way time seems to drag itself limply on through this TORMENT. She bites the inside of her cheek so that she won’t make the noise of IMPATIENCE that she can feel climbing up her throat. 

LEAVE ME ALONE! STOP!  S T O P !

Melchior is at it still, though, with his soothing tones. Almost cooing, Moritz thinks bitterly, condescending to me. Mocking me! She’s too stupid for reason, and just as Melchior always must he’s managing her stupidity like a nanny. How could she have been comforted by this time and time again? How could she never have seen this effort for the cruel, DEMEANING thing that it was? Melchior’s words hold no reassurance for her. There is an instant in which she could almost begin to be plied: ‘I’m glad… All today I’ve been wondering…’ She almost softens.

LIAR! He’s lying! He?? Wondering about Moritz?? Yes, Moritz is sure that her wellbeing was just  E A T I N G  away at Melchior’s mind today while he and Wendla———!!!

… She shouldn’t be angry that he hasn’t cared. It’s easier that way, if Moritz believes Melchior will be fine when she’s gone. It will be easier to pull the trigger. Really this is a gift. She shouldn’t be so cross with Melchior.

‘There were brief moments of panic today where I thought I’d never see you again.’

You almost didn’t. … You certainly won’t again.

She should thank him, but still cannot quell the black, churning bitterness in the pit of her stomach as Melchior finishes his speech. Her heart is pounding, and she’s breathing too hard. Surely this is what makes Melchior try to interpret and to ease her sickness.

“I don’t want to do that. Look it’s— I’m fine. One needs a day to clear his head after everything…” She realizes Melchior doesn’t know yet about her failure (or, at least, she hasn’t told him). This remark won’t make any sense. She tries to push past it, speaking more and more quickly. “It’s all fine, only I want to be alone. I don’t need you to— You should go home. I’ll be on my way soon enough. I’ll turn up.”

#(a hidden sixth option that i forgot about until just now) #(how could i have ever forgotten our avril lavigne plot) #(you're welcome) #(don't call it a comeback) #andessence #WO DER WIND SPIELT {moritz} #I'M WITH YOU (avril lavigne au)

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“...so then — and get this, Moritz — he turns himself into a pickle.” Melchior stifles a laugh and continues his thoroughly-engaging synopsis. “And could you guess what he calls himself? ‘Pickle Rick’! It’s the funniest shit I’ve ever seen.”

#don’t call it a comeback #this cursed thought crossed my mind and i had to get it out

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friendly reminder that even if i take ages to reply, i still want to roleplay with you

#(don't call it a comeback) #SENSING GOD IS DEAD {mun}

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(god i wanna come back so bad,,, but i could never. not now not yet still not good enough)

#(don't call it a comeback) #THE BITCH OF LIVING {ooc} #delete later//

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*holding clipboard* hm…. *kisses your cheek* interestning… *writes down results on clipboard but the results are a drawing of us holding hands*

#(don't call it a comeback) #YOU WATCH ME {self} #WO DER WIND SPIELT {moritz} #THE ART OF SLEEPING WITH {musings}

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Only the educated are free.

Epictetus, Discourses (via philosophybits)

#(don't call it a comeback)

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This blog is going on hiatus.

I don’t have the mental or emotional faculties to deal with this blog right now. I can hardly depend on myself right now so I don’t know how to deal with other people depending on me. I apologize for any inconvenience that I might be causing any of you. 

I would love to come back as soon as possible! As soon as I feel normal/real again I’ll be back and more than willing to play everyone’s favorite trashcan. I’m not going to forget about any of my hanging threads.

In the meantime I’ll still be using my main blog, @officialdavemalloy, or i guess my twitter? which is @ defenestr8now.

Thanks for understanding.

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This blog is going on hiatus.

I don’t have the mental or emotional faculties to deal with this blog right now. I can hardly depend on myself right now so I don’t know how to deal with other people depending on me. I apologize for any inconvenience that I might be causing any of you. 

I would love to come back as soon as possible! As soon as I feel normal/real again I’ll be back and more than willing to play everyone’s favorite trashcan. I’m not going to forget about any of my hanging threads.

In the meantime I’ll still be using my main blog, @officialdavemalloy, or i guess my twitter? which is @ defenestr8now.

Thanks for understanding.

[mirrorblue]

This blog is going on hiatus.

I don’t have the mental or emotional faculties to deal with this blog right now. I can hardly depend on myself right now so I don’t know how to deal with other people depending on me. I apologize for any inconvenience that I might be causing any of you. 

I would love to come back as soon as possible! As soon as I feel normal/real again I’ll be back and more than willing to play everyone’s favorite trashcan. I’m not going to forget about any of my hanging threads.

In the meantime I’ll still be using my main blog, @officialdavemalloy, or i guess my twitter? which is @ defenestr8now.

Thanks for understanding.

[mirrorblue]

This blog is going on hiatus.

I don’t have the mental or emotional faculties to deal with this blog right now. I can hardly depend on myself right now so I don’t know how to deal with other people depending on me. I apologize for any inconvenience that I might be causing any of you. 

I would love to come back as soon as possible! As soon as I feel normal/real again I’ll be back and more than willing to play everyone’s favorite trashcan. I’m not going to forget about any of my hanging threads.

In the meantime I’ll still be using my main blog, @officialdavemalloy, or i guess my twitter? which is @ defenestr8now.

Thanks for understanding.

[mirrorblue]

This blog is going on hiatus.

I don’t have the mental or emotional faculties to deal with this blog right now. I can hardly depend on myself right now so I don’t know how to deal with other people depending on me. I apologize for any inconvenience that I might be causing any of you. 

I would love to come back as soon as possible! As soon as I feel normal/real again I’ll be back and more than willing to play everyone’s favorite trashcan. I’m not going to forget about any of my hanging threads.

In the meantime I’ll still be using my main blog, @officialdavemalloy, or i guess my twitter? which is @ defenestr8now.

Thanks for understanding.

#idk who really cares but here you go #THE BITCH OF LIVING {ooc}

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The good student contradicts his teacher and makes him more eager to explain and defend the truth.

Baltasar Gracián, The Art of Worldly Wisdom (via philosophybits)

#(yo herr sonnenstich get FUCKED)

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crush - richard siken // how to draw a horse - emma hunsinger // sehnsucht - german word

#(hey just sayin) #WO DER WIND SPIELT {moritz}

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(what is a queue? fuck a queue here’s three drafts at 2 in the morning)

#(why it got so many letters in it??) #(just needs one: q) #also i have like 15 followers so no one cares)