"Once you lose someone, it is never exactly the same person who comes back.”

ibuzoowrites:

One. Famine is a teenage girl, sipping cappucino foam through the holes of her gas mask. Her eyes are hidden behind tainted black; when you pass her, you see the bright reflection of something red behind the glass. You saw it, but it did not happen. Two. Hundreds of people in the streets are bawling but one of them stays silent. He wears the oil-greased overall of the workshop around the corner. It reads Conquest. His teeth are razor sharp and glisten in the dying sun above. It reminds you of a butter knife. You blink and he’s gone. Three. Four men in posh busniess suits drop dead to the earth. A middle aged lady looks at you with a knife in her hand and a gun at her hip. Someone far away calls out for her. Her name is something British, but you’re sure they called her War. She throws her head back and starts to laugh. It chills you to the bones. Four. An old man smiles at you from a park bench while he throws rotten corn at the pigeons. You realize the pigeons are actually vultures. When you look at the old man again, Death looks back at you. It doesn’t matter. The world around you is already dead.

the four horsemen of the apocalypse, re-imagined as vigilantes in a post apocalyptic setting | r.m

"I am that clumsy human, always loving, loving, loving. And loving. And never leaving.”

"A friend isn’t your friend until they defend you in your absence.”

"Never, never tell them. Try and remember that. Never tell anyone anything ever. Never tell anyone anything again.”

"I can’t stand it to think my life is going so fast and I’m not really living it.”