(no subject)
Do you ever just lie in bed in the dead of night, and then suddenly think--no, feel in his visceral, rib-clenching, almost anxiety-inducingly powerful way--"what the FUCK, I love Dean Winchester so much?????????"
Because man oh man, last Sunday's NASCAR race got rained out and ran at noon on Monday. But since my friends and I were all working, we didn't see the race--and agreed to latewatch it together. NASCAR didn't post the race until Wednesday morning, so we legit all stayed off nearly all social media to avoid spoilers waiting for tonight, when we could finally watch this race.
And when it ended I got SO DEEPLY SAD because when your life is just workworkwork and misery and despair you get kind of inured to it and accept that there is no joy in this world and life holds no bounties and it's just kind of like, okay, well, whatever I guess. This is fine. But then raceday came and we all got this taste of happiness and the prospect of the rest of this week suddenly felt completely unbearable because HAPPINESS? WHAT IS THIS FEELING? INTEREST? LOVE? THESE ARE REAL THINGS AFTER ALL? FUCK ME.
And then you lie awake with the insurmountable prospect of the rest of your soulless efficacy-lean stupid stupid week until you remember that Dean Winchester exists.
DEAN, COMING! IN! WITH! THE! SAVE!
AND HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW IT. NEVER WILL.
Because man oh man, last Sunday's NASCAR race got rained out and ran at noon on Monday. But since my friends and I were all working, we didn't see the race--and agreed to latewatch it together. NASCAR didn't post the race until Wednesday morning, so we legit all stayed off nearly all social media to avoid spoilers waiting for tonight, when we could finally watch this race.
And when it ended I got SO DEEPLY SAD because when your life is just workworkwork and misery and despair you get kind of inured to it and accept that there is no joy in this world and life holds no bounties and it's just kind of like, okay, well, whatever I guess. This is fine. But then raceday came and we all got this taste of happiness and the prospect of the rest of this week suddenly felt completely unbearable because HAPPINESS? WHAT IS THIS FEELING? INTEREST? LOVE? THESE ARE REAL THINGS AFTER ALL? FUCK ME.
And then you lie awake with the insurmountable prospect of the rest of your soulless efficacy-lean stupid stupid week until you remember that Dean Winchester exists.
DEAN, COMING! IN! WITH! THE! SAVE!
AND HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW IT. NEVER WILL.