all of you just wait & see. we’ll stand taller than these mountains that surround us. we’ll bare open our souls for the world to grab. we’ll see lights where there was once dimness. we’ll testify together what we have seen & felt. life will go on - all of us will go on. crawling, stumbling, & falling perhaps. we will be the strong ones, & our hearts will shine as brightly as the sun.
yet, even in certain defeat, she secretly clung to the belief that life is not merely a series of meaningless accidents or coincidences. but rather it’s a tapestry of events that culminate an exquisite, sublime plan.
barefoot or first thing in the morning, I feel beautiful. I didn’t always feel that way, but I feel that way now. when somebody just loves you, & when you make somebody else happy, when your presence seems to make them happy, you suddenly feel like the most beautiful person in the world(:
The repetition of every day life kills. It ruins the flow of my creative juices. No joke. On days that I sleep in, I go to bed feeling exhausted, & yet, I never sleep on the weekends, when I should want rest. I don’t. It would be a waste of freedom. I’m only tired on weekdays - only when I know I have to drag myself out of my fucking room to take a shower and go to school, & then to work. Maybe I’m not tired. Maybe it’s just a natural defense against running myself into the ground with routine. I eat right. I see the light of day. I breathe fresh air all the time. I love the outdoors. Shit. I love my life. But between Monday & Thursday I feel so transient, my head isn’t in the clouds, my feet aren’t on the ground.