January 2011
i’m like a collection of paradoxes.
everything is beautiful but beautiful isn’t everything.
and please don’t tell me that i’m dreaming.
i was born with glass bones and paper skin. every morning i break my legs, and every afternoon i break my arms. at night, i lie awake in agony until my heart attacks put me to sleep.
sigh no more.
young hearts run free.
because there’s no use in going back to yesterday, because i was a different person then.
seek magic.
loneliness adds beauty to life. it puts a special burn on sunsets and makes night air smell better.
and yet the most exciting life is the imaginary one.
never settle for anything less than butterflies in your stomach.
we all start the same, then some of us get more interesting.
eyes wide open always hoping for the sun.
you can do anything you want with your life, just want it.
those were yesterday’s feelings.
just a matter of energy.