Cried About Jude St. Francis Today Will Probably Cry About Him Tomorrow

jude:

“You wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.”

“do you think he was happy with me?”

the happy years, pg. 493

lispenard street, pg. 713

lispenard street, pg. 719

i just went to see a little life recorded for the cinema and i’m actually so heartbroken!

i am so fucking high and i can’t stop thinking about jude st francis

“how does the israel & palestine effect me?” does something need to affect you personally for you to show some empathy, to care? do you not care that we are witnessing A GENOCIDE. an ethical cleansing of palestinians & countries such as the US, the UK arent helping and actually funding to support this genocide.

you dont care about genocide but you guys expect me to care about…your sps? you guys expect me stop talking about palestine and write back to you guys about the void a topic thats been done 27282919 times or wanting your crush messaging you back? atp just stfu

i was really fucking stoned okay. 💔

the peeta and jude parallels lowkey…

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.

i just wanna let everybody know that i'm never not thinking about jude st francis. he is my every thought and i love him sm and he means the world to me