Frank Blues
Tom Hulce and Tony Jay - Out There
1,226 plays

fuckyeahdisneysongs:

60 favourite Disney songs in no order
(#6) Out There - The Hunchback of Notre Dame

“Just one day and then I swear I’ll be content, with my share. Won’t resent, won’t despair, old and bent, I won’t care. I’ll have spent one day out there.” 

Plans

I’m going hiking today! A five mile off-trail to these abandoned railroad tunnels.

I went trespassing today and it inspired me to write a bit of a story.

The man kept coming back to what he called “what he had coming to him.” He felt guilty, that he deserved anything that came to him. He wasn’t one to follow the Dhammapada, or the teachings of Buddha, or Jack Kerouac. He didn’t believe in karma or luck, he just accepted whatever came his way, save for positive.

He stood on the cliff’s edge, mute, comforted with trust in him not to jump. It was that same trust that aided him through everyday life. He read somewhere, or saw on television, that the feeling of catharsis wasn’t the fear of falling, but the fear of losing one’s self-control and jumping, killing one’s self. He prided himself on that self-control. That’s why anything harsher than a cigarette was of discomfort to him, the thought of losing control of his emotions was distressing. He went on living the life everyone expected to, even though he lived for these small moments of solitude which he found cigarette in hand, body on cliff.

He was a new smoker. A habit he picked up for himself, influence of culture just. The majority of his immediate family smoked, save for his sister, so hiding it was something he held dear. He often felt like it was important to hide this part of him, even though it was known to all. He romanticized the idea of extreme secrecy and solitude. He enjoyed the low profile and the extent in which it lay on the choices he made. Should he brag? Should he make his opinion known? Should he bring in strangers into his intimate soul, hoping he would break free of his selfish, solitary confinement?

He asked himself these questions on the edge of the cliff. Not fearing suicide, not inspired by death, just at peace feeling the warm sunlight contrast the cool breeze that put out his cigarette. He didn’t mind though. It was that simple gesture, not by god, not by the fates, not by luck, but just the gesture that lead him to know comfort in himself. And that it isn’t wrong to believe what he’s held so dear for so long. But just as quick as the breeze left, so did the affirmation. Air stale, the guilt was reclaimed, and the cigarette was again lit.

Tracy Chapman - Open Arms

lipstickndynamite:

One of the best mom moments in TV history. I wish more parents knew how important it is to validate their children’s feelings.

Haircut

Highlights From the Afternoon

  • This is an old script of the play of the Hobbit I found. I wanted to steal it but I’m glad I didn’t. Someone else is going to find this little gem.
  • This a doodle I did on the side of my coffee cup. The coffee was called Jamaican Me Crazy, and I have no regrets about not choosing the House Blend.

gay-dick-buttkiss

Who made you so cute?
Anonymous


Bronchitis.