How I Imagine Willem Posed For Jb’s Photos:

it’s thanksgiving so i’m remembering how much jude loved it </3

your card declines at therapy and they bring jude and willem during the happy years in (you can’t save them)

Your card declines at therapy and they bring out Harold’s “in everything I see, I see him” monologue from Lispenard Street II

It just downed on me that Jude died in the summer.

“Jude’s season”

it’s like have you ever heard of real life before. so many people kill themselves, and the fact that the book isn’t wrapped up in a neat little bow of beginning, conflict and resolution like most books does not mean jude is bad representation. it demonstrates an anti brain function ideology that actually makes me go crazy… say you didn’t like it because you want everyone to be happy ever after! guess what! suicide doesn’t make sense, and thousands of people never get a happy ever after.

people in the a little life tag being like "jude st francis is bad representation because there is no moral resolution for his trauma" i am BEGGING you to shut the fuck up

here’s how i think the boys’ social media’s would be like

jude:

i think he would absolutely not have any social media at all, out of fear. but i can kinda imagine willem encouraging him to make an instagram after they went official. i feel like he’d post really artsy pictures of like trees in central park with a b&w filter on

willem:

i just know he is on EVERY platform ever idc and i feel like he’s super active on his stories too

malcolm:

would have instagram but it’d be one post from like 2013 of him and the boys

jb:

ABSOLUTELY would have insta and would make it everyone’s problem. i can picture him taking film photos of them all and just captioning it something like ‘judy.’ or ‘beauty.’ LMFAOOO

A Little Life - Hanya Yanagihara

october 22, 2023

I just read the first chapter of the “axiom of equality” part of a little life and dude I’m really reconsidering the way I view life as a whole.

x=x, yes Jude, I feel you so fucking much, all my life I felt like I wouldn’t surpass this feeling of being wrong, the wrongdoings of my childhood, my mistakes and mistakes of others done to me haunt me every single moment of my days, maybe If I were funnier, maybe I if worked on my weight a little harder it would disappear, what did I do to deserve so much hate from others as a kid? to experience the heavy bullying? why should it stain my memory like a wine stained carpet? (you get used to it but it’s never really clean, this metaphor worked in my head so please bear with it). and Caleb, man I’ve met so many fucking Calebs in my life, people i trusted at first sight, thought it could work just to be utterly disappointed at the outcome.

“you’re not your past”, easier said than done.

it’s 3:15 a.m where I live as i’m writing this and I doubt i’ll be able to afford a good night of sleep due the mental state i find myself in. I haven’t cried once while reading this book, maybe it’s because I see so much of myself in these characters that I’m just perplexed and angry, at myself, at others who made me feel like a complete piece of shit my whole life, at the JB’s, cause we all have that one friend that, at some point, made fun of our insecurities and left us feeling like garbage.

read “a little life” by Hanya Yanagihara, i promise it’ll change you and the way you interpret life and others (and i haven’t even finished it yet)

Both Luke, Harold, and Dr Traylor would make Jude drink milk with his dinner

Milk as a symbolism of childhood, protection, nurturing care. Milk used to regain physical strength when it was lost, because the three of them each needed jude for something (a tool, a son, a toy) and he needed that strength to take on what they wanted from him.

i’m so😭😭

Thinking about JB and Jude lately…

JB, who was Jude’s first friend. JB, who carried Jude to the college hospital when he witnessed him having an episode in their dorm.

JB, who shouted and made a scene in that same hospital until a doctor finally saw Jude - and that doctor was Andy, the only physician Jude ever allowed to care for him for the rest of life.

JB, who helped Jude move into the apartment he shared with Willem on Lispenard St. JB, who brought along his friend Richard to help that day. Richard, who later sold Jude his beautiful apartment on Green Street that Jude loved so much. Richard, who secretly looked after him more than Jude ever imagined, who at one point saved his life, and at another point reminded him his birthday was worth celebrating, when Jude himself had forgotten and his world was bleak.

JB, who envied his life, his looks, his career, his relationship (even his limp!). JB, who saw him as competition, rather than someone to pity. JB, who thought he was beautiful, who thought killing something small and adorable was worth it if it meant looking like Jude.

JB, who brought him to parties, who showered him with laughter and provocations.

JB, who asked too many questions and wanted all the answers but got none of them. JB, who then asked Harold to back off from asking all the questions and wanting all the answers as well.

JB, who captured his life in galleries, on canvas, on film. The good and the bad.

JB, who’s art invaded and celebrated and decorated. JB’s, who’s art froze Willem in time for him.

JB, who was Jude’s last friend. JB, who Jude resented, who Jude hated, who Jude never forgave, who Jude wanted dead.

JB, who found him at last, who put away his suits, who handed out his letters.

JB, who outlived his friends, who was left alone, with his pictures, and his paintings, and his pain.