![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Letters to Cas
dear cas-cas,
i ain't gonna lie, our background has been a bit spotty, boy. i used to be all about the sam and dean and ONLY the sam and dean. i adored their co-dependency, and had come to grudgingly accept that everybody else was more or less disposable like toilet paper --if toilet paper could bleed, be disemboweled and/or decapitated (except bobby, chuck bless him). you get the point. so when you came along i'll admit i was fine about it, doubtful, but i wasn't -- you know? overjoyed? not in the very beginning. i was too pro-human back then.
i mean, angels. ANGELS. winged dudes who dispensed miracles in a somewhat capricious manner. the world was about to be bad-touched by the angels, hell-bent on the apocalypse. dickish angels galore, beings fierce and sociopathic who reminded me of Gordon Gekko. you, well, i started loving you because you were adorable, hella conflicted (Team Destiny v.s. Team Free Will) and didn't seem exactly neurotypical.
then you told dean you saved him from perdition and behaved like --er-- you know, like you behave? and i thought, "this is like a scientist dude who can be so brilliant and artistic that he can create a mathematical formula that explains the whole freakin' Cosmos, but who kind of dreads going to Post Office because interacting with the Post Master is OMG so overwhelming."
the lack of personal space, the looks and dramatic declarations, which you delivered like you were giving out facts and statistics, made me feel for you. it reminded me of this boy i had known in high school who followed one of my guy friends like a puppy with an intensity that made it clear he'd never had a best friend before. that boy went through a real harsh time after we graduated. lost himself in drugs, led a self-destructive lifestyle. i think he felt lonely.
the sob stories about deadbeat dads and being abandoned? struck a deep chord in me. i know about deadbeat dads too and i am also still looking for my family, among my friends, among my loved ones. i know i've found some people, i know there are more to be found. i know some of my family will find me.
people will disappoint you, friends will betray you, and sometimes, yes ***worst of all*** you'll be the one disappointing and betraying. right now you're going through a rough time, like the boy i talked about, like myself at one time. i know what it's like to lose people you love. to lose yourself even.
know there are many who love you, who know exactly who you are because they can see themselves in you. humans who are inspired by your work and your story. don't lose hope, don't give up on ever finding your family. you will, baby, you will. maybe you already have.
con mucho amor,
Filo
write yours.
i ain't gonna lie, our background has been a bit spotty, boy. i used to be all about the sam and dean and ONLY the sam and dean. i adored their co-dependency, and had come to grudgingly accept that everybody else was more or less disposable like toilet paper --if toilet paper could bleed, be disemboweled and/or decapitated (except bobby, chuck bless him). you get the point. so when you came along i'll admit i was fine about it, doubtful, but i wasn't -- you know? overjoyed? not in the very beginning. i was too pro-human back then.
i mean, angels. ANGELS. winged dudes who dispensed miracles in a somewhat capricious manner. the world was about to be bad-touched by the angels, hell-bent on the apocalypse. dickish angels galore, beings fierce and sociopathic who reminded me of Gordon Gekko. you, well, i started loving you because you were adorable, hella conflicted (Team Destiny v.s. Team Free Will) and didn't seem exactly neurotypical.
then you told dean you saved him from perdition and behaved like --er-- you know, like you behave? and i thought, "this is like a scientist dude who can be so brilliant and artistic that he can create a mathematical formula that explains the whole freakin' Cosmos, but who kind of dreads going to Post Office because interacting with the Post Master is OMG so overwhelming."
the lack of personal space, the looks and dramatic declarations, which you delivered like you were giving out facts and statistics, made me feel for you. it reminded me of this boy i had known in high school who followed one of my guy friends like a puppy with an intensity that made it clear he'd never had a best friend before. that boy went through a real harsh time after we graduated. lost himself in drugs, led a self-destructive lifestyle. i think he felt lonely.
the sob stories about deadbeat dads and being abandoned? struck a deep chord in me. i know about deadbeat dads too and i am also still looking for my family, among my friends, among my loved ones. i know i've found some people, i know there are more to be found. i know some of my family will find me.
people will disappoint you, friends will betray you, and sometimes, yes ***worst of all*** you'll be the one disappointing and betraying. right now you're going through a rough time, like the boy i talked about, like myself at one time. i know what it's like to lose people you love. to lose yourself even.
know there are many who love you, who know exactly who you are because they can see themselves in you. humans who are inspired by your work and your story. don't lose hope, don't give up on ever finding your family. you will, baby, you will. maybe you already have.
con mucho amor,
Filo
write yours.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
<3 <3 <3
no subject
these are excerpts from kafka's letters to milena
Nor is it perhaps really love when I say that for me you are the most beloved; love is to me that you are the knife which I turn within myself.
*
"I see you more clearly, the movements of your body, your hands, so quick, so determined, it's almost a meeting, although when I try to raise my eyes to your face, what breaks into the flow of the letter...is fire and I see nothing but fire."
*
Last night I dreamed about you. What happened in detail I can hardly remember, all I know is that we kept merging into one another. I was you, you were me. Finally you somehow caught fire.
*
I somehow can no longer write of anything but what concerns us, us in the turmoil of the world, just us. Everything else is remote. Wrong! Wrong! But the lips are mumbling and my face lies in your lap.
*
And when you once asked me how I could have called that Saturday "good" with that fear in my heart, it's not difficult to explain. Since I love you (and I do love you, you stupid one, as the sea loves a pebble in its depths, this is just how my love engulfs you--and may I in turn be the pebble with you, if Heaven permits), I love the whole world and this includes your left shoulder, no, it was first the right one, so I kiss it if I feel like it
*
But just between this day-world and that "half-hour in bed" of which you once spoke contemptuously as "men's business," there lies for me an abyss which I cannot bridge, probably because I don't want to. That over there is a concern of the night, thoroughly and in every sense a concern of the night: this here is the world and I possess it and now I'm supposed to leap across into the night in order to take possession of it once more. Can one take possession of anything twice? Does that not mean: to lose it? Here is the world which I possess, and I'm supposed to leap across for the sake of a sinister black-magic, of a hocus-pocus, a philosopher's stone, an alchemy, a wish-ring. Away with it, I'm terribly afraid of it.
links i thought might inspire you:
http://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/paintings/gerrit-van-honthorst-saint-sebastian
http://8tracks.com/chandlerina/like-brothers-on-a-hotel-bed
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Angela_(1995_film)
you don't have to use any of this for anything, but i thought you'd like it and then it would seep itself into your subconscious and then i'm bound to read about it eventually (or maybe i already am). muahahahahahaha <3
no subject
no subject