In photographs, you looked so confident, more than I’d known you to be, so content to reside in the body to which your soul was assigned. It sort of disturbed me to look at. The way you acted. How no-one knew, no-one wanted or needed to know how much you hated that clumsy and imperfect mess of lanky limbs and knotted hair. So well hidden from prying eyes was your desperate longing to destroy...
Whether you are aware of it or not, you’ve chosen the place you are sitting in, you’ve chosen the emotion you are dwelling in— you are the cultivator of your perspective.
I don’t think we ever really learn anything in this life. We just think we do. Collecting little thoughts and pieces of the things we’re told and holding onto them as if they were fact; not because we are foolish, but we just need something to believe in in a world where nothing is certain. We have such a great capacity for faith, and an enormous, tragic desire compelling us to use it all up. ...
Sometimes we have to remind ourselves to find something beautiful in the ordinary.