“Show me those parts of you
You don’t throw light on often
Show me your worsts
Parts of you you don’t love
And I’ll tell you how beautiful they are
I have no idea how we came this way
But I still hope you see hope in me
Tell me about the times you’ve fallen
After all sunsets were always mesmerising.
Come to me, with your good and bad
I don’t mind covering you up at all
Let’s skip dinner to lie in grass
And satisfy ourselves
with the twinkle in the sky
I’m calling, pick up your phone
I wish to run like horses
Live memories with you
Catch you like a shooting star
And love you till death do us apart
You’re too beautiful for me to resist
And I’m too naive to not to fall.” -tw.
In the rumours that fly,
In the helpless goodbyes.
The dirty and nasty lies,
The ones that make you sigh.
In pain, in woes.
In highs and lows and lows.
In enemies and foes.
Not everything heals as time flows.
In what’s real.
Apart from what you want,
There is what you get.
The truth is,
Gold is old.
Your heart can be broken
even by those
whom you just met.” -tw.
"I hate it. I hate all of it. All of the stupid yoga classes, and plants on windowsills, and days spent at the gym. The cookie cutter couple, the polished looks, the fucking painting classes after brunch. It’s all bullshit. This idea of a perfect life, the ideal life, the life where you have your shit together. The life where your shit is so together that you have time to drink wine and go to soul cycle every weekend. Screw that. You can’t take a pile of trash, pour paint on it, and say it’s art. You can’t cover up the fact that you are human. You are so human. I think that everyone is just as fucked up as the next person and we’d all be better off if we stopped pretending to be okay and we admit how screwed up we really are. Maybe then we’d all really have a way to know each other. You’re scared the ‘love of your life’ might not really be the one? Let’s talk about that. You think your family is falling apart? Tell me all about it. I don’t want to talk about the weather over coffee and pastries. I want to talk about pain and life and love over tears and laughs. I want to be real, don’t you?" - late night thoughts // An Excerpt From A Book I’ll Never Write