There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves; it is not my nature. My attachments are always excessively strong.
I hope that someday, somebody wants to hold you for twenty minutes straight, and that’s all they do. They don’t pull away. They don’t look at your face. They don’t try to kiss you. All they do is wrap you up in their arms, without an ounce of selfishness in it.
That ugly girl complex is real tough
You know when you were ugly for so long and now you startin to look a little better but you still not used to gettin attention or people really tryna get next to you
So every person who approaches you you’re like, “Nah… what do you really want? Cause I know it ain’t me!” when they really do just find you attractive
Lit by their own sun, like Van Gogh, artists are guided by a vision from the dark side of the mind. Obscurity shines in its own night because their tricky truths triangulate a turquoise paradox, fleet with the peculiar velocity of sudden stillness.