I love you.
Not just when it's tragically hip to do so.
Not just when your band is the "in thing."
Not just when you're young and unconventionally handsome.
Not just when things are going good.
Not because I'm a pretty girl (I'm not) who likes to prove she can get any man she sets her mind to.
Not only when it's a nice day or I'm hypomanic or at least the charnel smell isn't blowing down from the damn meat packing plant to the North of where I live.
Not even only when your beautiful, sharp mind is at its best and you're cooking up something new and wonderful.
I love you when it hurts like hell to do so.
I love you because you deserve to be loved.
I love you because you were, are, and always will be a cut above.
I love you because you're beautiful in the ways that really count.
I love you even though I know how it makes me look.
I love you even though it makes my heart feel like it's being ripped out by dull razor blades and sometimes stabbed through by burning swords.
It never ends--I always will love you.
Please visit this very talented artist. http://elric2012.deviantart.com/art/Ten-of-Swords-190084600
~Cie~
Cross-Posted to:
(NSFW blog. Contains slash/explicit gay erotica)
Even when he started showing signs of how frail and sick he was becoming, he still didn’t want to be a burden to anyone, and so he kept trying to be strong and do what he believed was right.
And so, this is why I can’t stop talking about him.
That and the fact that he saved my life more than once when I was a miserable, lonely, scapegoated, mentally ill teenager just by making music that was for people like me, not for the “cool” kids, but for the rejects, for the lonely, the angry, the pissed off. For people who everyone else thought was worthless. Malcolm Young did not give a rare rat fuck about being cool. I loved that about him—love that about him.
Always in the present tense, because that is a feeling that will never die.
