“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief…and unspeakable love.”—Washington Irving (via perfectpersoninprogress)
my cousin’s and some friend’s graduation tonight made me all reminiscent of mine. i was the happiest i can ever remember in those months of my life. if that was the peak, that’s just too sad to even think about.
this song was my life all of the last year and a half. srsly
I used to think one day we’d tell the story of us How we met and the sparks flew instantly People would say, “they’re the lucky ones” I used to know my place was a spot next to you Now I’m searching the room for an empty seat 'Cause lately I don't even know what page you're on Oh, a simple complication Miscommunications lead to fall out So many things that I wish you knew So many walls up I can’t break through
Now I’m standing alone In a crowded room And we’re not speaking And I’m dying to know Is it killing you Like it’s killing me? I don’t know what to say Since a twist of fate When it all broke down And the story of us Looks a lot like a tragedy now Next chapter
How’d we end up this way? See me nervously pulling at my clothes And trying to look busy And you’re doing your best to avoid me I’m starting to think one day I’ll tell the story of us How I was losing my mind when I saw you here But you held your pride like you should have held me Oh, we’re scared to see the ending Why are we pretending this is nothing? I’d tell you I miss you but I don’t know how I’ve never heard silence quite this loud
This is looking like a contest Of who can act like they care less But I liked it better when you were on my side The battle’s in your hands now But I would lay my armor down If you’d say you’d rather love than fight So many things that you wish I knew But the story of us might be ending soon
etc etc etc. how did i not know this existed until recently? haha i’m so behind
Community | Speaking of stolen kisses, fans of this acclaimed NBC comedy are curious as to what will come of the season finale clinch shared by Annie and — of all people — Abed. Noting that “nothing happens on this show that doesn’t have weight to it,” series boss…
Abed knows he is an observer. He has spent his whole life unravelling the human character: their thoughts, their actions, their responses, their emotions. He knows almost everything about everyone, which is why the minute he walked into Spanish class and saw Annie Edison he knew that he was going to fall in love with her.
He’s not exactly proud of the fact. Abed likes being simply Abed and not Abed and So-And-So. Not only that but Annie is nothing like the women from TV and movies he always thought he would like, you know, the strong and silent types who get the job done swiftly. Annie is completely the opposite. Sort of dithering, beautiful, but in a more petite way than he is accustomed to, and the biggest heart he has ever encountered.
It’s almost disappointing.
But Abed being Abed does nothing to pursue her. He feels no need to act on his feelings. He watches the way Annie watches Troy, like a vicious cycle, and sees her smiling and laughing and sneaking in time with him. Abed gets it; Troy is pretty cool. So he hangs out with Troy more too, just to see what Annie thinks is so great about him. Soon enough they are great friends and Troy is oblivious to little Annie Edison. Abed still says nothing, because Annie is simply infatuated with Troy and there is just no way to beat him.
So he watches.
Annie and Vaughn. Bizarre, a bit frustrating, but the way Britta and Jeff act it just seems like it isn’t a serious thing. So he feels a bit better. But really, what can he do about it anyway? Nothing. Abed is no competition against any of these guys.
He finds out only moments before she leaves that she is moving, ridiculously, to another state with a hippy boy to go to school with him. It’s something straight out of a cheesy teenage drama. When she’s smiling at him and he sees how happy and excited she is though, he can’t do anything else but give her the most asexual high five one could possibly ever give the girl they love (which makes him feel even more pathetic). Because why bother ruining her exciting future with his burdensome feelings?
Jeff and Annie is the last straw. Abed has noticed their odd looks, that debate kiss, the strange things they say and then suddenly avoid looking at each other. This is the one that sort of bothers him, especially since Jeff and Britta have been sleeping together. Jeff somehow gets all the girls and grabbing the one Abed has fallen harder for over the past few years seems cruel. Of course, Abed has never made the feelings known so it can only be his fault, blah blah blah. But Abed has had enough.
“So you think Jeff likes you?” Finally, after two years, Abed gets the guts to talk to Annie about something he never really talks to anyone about: romance, feelings. They are walking out of the library after the odd group argument they had when Abed let it out about Britta and Jeff and Annie seemed so upset over it. That worries Abed. So, heart beating a bit faster than normal, he asks her.
Annie looks up at him, her forehead creased with worry. Unlike Abed, she just isn’t good at hiding her feelings. He knows this. He has known it since ten minutes into talking to her for the first time. “I—I don’t know. It’s kind of silly.” She laughs nervously. Abed does nothing; he watches her as they walk slowly through the halls.
“Do you like him?” asks Abed. But of course Annie dithers and frowns and flaps a hand, avoiding the question as usual and Abed is left feeling like he has less of a chance than ever.
So finally when his chance comes at the end of the year—after two whole years of waiting at the sidelines while Annie cycled through so many other guys—Abed takes the chance and kisses her.
She kisses him back and he doesn’t even notice all the paint spraying on them from the sprinkler system. Even now, even when he is elated and proud and wishes he could keep kissing her he stays calm; walks off; and hopes that somehow, some way, Annie is thinking of him like he always has about her.
“Some nights, alone, he thinks of her. And some nights, alone, she thinks of him. Some nights these thoughts, separated by miles and time zones, occur at the same objective moment, and they are connected without ever knowing it.”—(via wordsandlyrics)
For once, Abed wants someone to notice. Maybe someone has actually been paying attention to him. Maybe someone actually knows what he’s trying to say.
“Annie just texted me,” he says, his hand clenching the phone tightly. Jeff’s back is to him. “She says Rich said no… that she’s nice, but too young for him.” A very deliberate pause follows these words. His heart, although he is trying to control it, pounds in his chest.
Please know what I’m trying to say, he thinks. Maybe something magical will happen and Jeff will stop being self-centered and notice the inner struggle Abed has been dealing with for two years. High hopes for someone who knows real life is nothing like TV, but there are odd moments where he feels it has to happen sooner or later. He feels the words on his tongue, the sentences he has thought about so many times coming to life.
I’m glad he said no because I’m in love with Annie. That’s it. That’s all there is to it. And Abed is tired of hiding it from everyone. He wants somebody, anybody, to realize what he has actually felt. His hopes, stupidly, land on Jeff.
There is a pause. Jeff runs off into the rain. Abed, unlike Jeff, knows exactly how everyone else is thinking and when he sees Jeff run he knows he is headed for Rich and all of his wisdom. Abed knows about Jeff and Annie, about their weird status (or lack thereof). Watching Jeff vanish into the rain, he looks back down at his phone, to Annie’s simple words followed by a little sad-faced emoticon. He hits reply.
“Cool. Cool cool cool.” He stares at it. Hits delete. Shuts his phone off.
If no one knows, then at least it’s not hurting anybody.
Archaeology is partly the discovery of the treasures of the past, partly the meticulous work of the scientific analyst, partly the exercise of the creative imagination. It is toiling in the sun on an excavation in the deserts of Central Asia, it is working with living Inuit in the snows of Alaska. It is diving down to Spanish wrecks off the coast of Florida, and it is investigating the sewers of Roman York. But it is also the painstaking task of interpretation so that we come to understand what these things mean for the human story. And it is the conservation of the world’s cultural heritage - against looting and against careless destruction.
Archaeology, then, is both a physical activity out in the field, and an intellectual pursuit in the study or laboratory. That is part of its great attraction. The rich mixture of danger and detective work has also made it the perfect vehicle for fiction writers and film-makers, from Agatha Christie with Murder in Mesopotamia to Steven Spielberg with Indiana Jones. However far from reality such portrayals may be, they capture the essential truth that archaeology is an exciting quest - the quest for knowledge about ourselves and our past.