Celebrity Sightings In London - November 27, 2023

the subtle eye contact during a show. hands holding the guitar like he holds you. the angles of his face from up on the stage. fluttering eyes when it's over. the smell of cigarettes and the remnants of his cologne. a tired hand interlocking with yours. a quiet hum as he lays with you. eyes shut. resting after a long night. hand in hair. running through it as you both lull to sleep. the same series of events repeating from one day to the next.

De alguma forma meu coração sabia que um dia te encontraria.

Vem cá, me deixa olhar pra você um pouquinho?

Charlie Dalton (the sun)

[maybe someone might disagree with me but that's something I think about charlie]

charlie was like an older brother to the dead poets, he always tried to hide his pain, he had to be strong for them, especially neil and todd (they never asked, but he felt like that. he was trying to protect and help them).

neil struggled every day between his father’s pressures and his true passion, acting.

todd lived in his brother’s shadow and had high expectations behind his back.

the poets thought charlie was the sun, they had seen him cry such little times that they struggled to remember them.

just as the sun, comes the time to set.

the night comes and there is only darkness, the room is silent.

charlie sometimes sobbed wrapped up tight under covers. he was tired of thinking about the life that he was supposed to have, tired of his parents who didn't consider him.

some of those nights were louder, cameron heard him crying, but he said nothing, knowing he wasn’t the person charlie needed.

in the morning charlie's light was shining again, just like the sun rising after a stormy night.

this is how a new day began.

Devon Aoki by Juergen Teller for ALESSANDRO DELL'ACQUA, 1998

ㅤㅤㅤㅤWhen you know, you know ...

amado

seus braços são maré que me nina, me leva, me deixa. te relembro ao sentir a brisa distante, os sons do ambiente e o sol suave. queria que ficasse um pouco mais, que fôssemos algo que não um eclipse tão raro. na fantasia do meu amor ‘cê mora na minha janela, cantando pequenas canções que acalmam minha tormenta e me mostram novas saídas pros medos que eu ainda nem conheço. calmaria.

[fico desejando nós, gastando o mar pôr-do-sol, postal, mais ninguém]

seja qual for o motivo dos nosso encontros astrais tão marcantes, quaisquer que sejam as órbitas e leis astronômicas que você obedece, o tempo passa rápido demais quando nossas peles brilhantes se tocam. me permita demorar no meu repouso. me deixe esquecer que tudo acaba, que pode ser que o amanhã não venha comigo tocando seu existir com a ponta dos dedos.

[estou entregue a ponto de estar sempre só esperando um sim ou nunca mais]

te espero cruzar o céu, o mar, as nuvens, e pousar com carinho no lado vazio da cama que arrumei em sua homenagem. talvez nem venha a ser meu um dia, como agora não é, porém desde que seus olhos se demorem sobre os meus e nossa música toque uma vez mais, seremos o evento mais bonito de assistir no firmamento. universais.

[quero dançar com você dançar com você]

bones and all 💋

“We met at the wrong time. That’s what I keep telling myself anyway. Maybe one day years from now, we’ll meet in a coffee shop in a far away city somewhere and we could give it another shot.“