After a while it is difficult to remember details. Where before I could have counted the petals on the flowers, I can’t even tell you what colour they were now. I also can no longer tell the colour of the shirt he was wearing that day.
The thing I do remember are the little lines around his eyes. He was still young, you could barely see them, but you could when he was worried. The moments that he cared about. My father has the same lines, his are deeper. More refined. The ones you would expect on a man that has been through all the things my father has been through. My fathers lines grew deeper the day my brother left.
Another thing I still remember is the smell. They, people, say that smell is the best way to remember things and they are right. His smell left our home a few years ago, but sometimes I think I can still smell him. As if the house is haunting me. The smell is lingering in the walls and in the old floorboards. When the house sighs, remembering him, we have to remember as well. The house is telling us to never forget him, thinking it will be possible to forget him.
It is not possible to forget. Not inside the house, but also not outside.
Jennifer Lawrence @ The Hunger Games press conference.
Peter Katz
Live @ Paradiso, Amsterdam
Febuary 28 2012
shot by me
Peter Katz
Live @ Paradiso, Amsterdam
Febuary 28 2012
shot by me
Would you do that for me?
Reblogging my own stuff. This thing just reached over 500 notes, which is a REALLY big thing for me. So excited. I love how this sometimes just comes back and gets a bunch of notes.
(Source: fallromantics)
