daniel faraday my actual tiny baby boy i love him so much guys
sam | 25 | she/they | leo | bi af |
y’all when i first watched lost i had no idea how important daniel faraday would be to me but look at me and my .co.vu now he’s my son my shining light the love of my life and the only man i ever need i love this man
Do any of you have that one tv show that is just so close to your heart? Like you could watch all these other shows; but when you go back to that one, you just feel like you’ve stumbled your way home after being lost for a little while. Maybe the show ended years ago, maybe the show is still airing or is on hiatus, but no matter what the same holds true; when you see it, or talk about it, it feels like home.
FORESHADOWING
Lost isn’t just a TV show, it’s an Experience™
The ghost of Christian Shephard didn’t come all the way up from Hell to explain the ending of LOST to have you all saying that they were dead the whole time. What kind of disrespect.
At first I was going to write came down from Heaven but then I thought “I’m not fooling anyone”
Tonight on Jeopardy.
Saw that! Love how much they put Lost on Jeopardy!
I guess that explains it.
Dead Is Dead specifically Ben Linus
Requested by Anonymous
Well, fear’s sort of an odd thing. When I was in residency, my first solo procedure was a spinal surgery on a 16 year old kid, a girl. And at the end, after 13 hours, I was closing her up and I, I accidentally ripped her dural sac. Shredded the base of the spine where all the nerves come together, membrane as thin as tissue. And so it ripped open. And the nerves just spilled out of her like angel hair pasta, spinal fluid flowing out of her and I… And the terror was just so… crazy. So real. And I knew I had to deal with it. So I just made a choice. I’d let the fear in, let it take over, let it do its thing, but only for five seconds, that’s all I was going to give it. So I started to count: One, two, three, four, five. Then it was gone. I went back to work, sewed her up and she was fine.
Lost » Pilot, Part 2
The iterations. It’s a distress call. A plea for help. A mayday. If the count is right… It’s been playing over… and over… for s i x t e e n y e a r s.
