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If originality is a __ense of novelty and freshness_ then, in the act of constructing ourselves, originality is not the goal. We construct a self-portrait, relying on existing objects _ books, quotes from authors and artists, images, art _ that we are more than happy to show off to others for them to use as masturbation material or for the material by which they align themselves. This is the new action painting _ the curational archive. The referential self portrait. The portrait of any other artist could be readily used to explain yourself, just reblog it and caption it with __ame._ The past consistently becomes the present, not through linear time, but through the constant reconstruction and relabeling of it.

Don't strive for perfection, just do your best. Everything in life is ever revolving to be perfect.

I always wonder why birds stay in the same place when they can fly anywhere on the earth. Then I ask myself the same question.

She had stars in her eyes and galaxies in her veins

I've come to realize that love is tragic, somewhere down the line it's inevitable. Fight for it.

I am not sad anymore. I am not weak or tender or quiet like you remember because the second you said those words and closed that door, I sold my soul to the part of myself I had buried in order to love you, to let you touch every inch of my rotten body, for I wanted to be touchable and not so strange. Not so sad and tender, like I__e always been, they say, so I changed. And then your glances and words throwing knives with no return about my change of habits and ways of living, being, and I nodded and smiled, dying silently a little bit inside.

I__ an author. We don__ want to lead. We don__ need to follow. We stay home and make stuff up and write it down and send it out into the world, and get inside people__ heads. Perhaps we change the world and perhaps we don__. We never know. We just make stuff up.

But whatever However Whenever this ends I want you to know That right now I love you forever

I am constantly torn between the will to be seen and still hidden so god damn well, a contradiction I never figured out.

I was curious as to how my words started circulating at such an alarming rate. After all, every author waits to be discovered by someone. Anyone. And so I found myself smack bang in the middle of the mad hatters head, and as someone put it, Tumblr might actually be worse than that. But yes, futilely, I was attempting to discover the elusive origin of my words by tracing back notes until I came across my quote right next to a selfie of a stripper, or hooker, with a fox tail butt plug... and that was when I stopped.

My selfie my life!

and if i asked you to name all the things that you love, how long would it take for you to name yourself?

You were the hardest year of my life and I__e never been so happy. What does that say about me?

a single poemthe thing that can keep melight on my feet,when my soul isheavy with sorrow.

The hard fact of friendship is that you need to make time for new friends by first stripping out the people who are using your energy in an unsatisfying way. You have to take that risk of being friendless to make room in your life for others who will be your new best friends

I wish I knew how to quit you, Tumblr.

I__e come to the conclusion, that nobody really cares about each other. You have a few selected souls that genuinely do, which is why when you have good people in your life, you should cherish them as they cherish you. But in a whole, no one cares. People just want you to do well so you don__ become a burden. Our society doesn__ allow space for creativity or a break to think without a stigma attached or the constant pressure to conform. Lol, after school there__ college, then university, then you__e expected to get a job and work for the rest of your lives and then die. But what if you want to chill and take things slow, after all it__ your life. What if you want to break the mould and spend a few years finding yourself. What if you take longer than others to balance yourself. Listen, as soon as you become burden, that__ when things start to turn for the worst. Nobody caring is the biggest inspiration for you to care for yourself. It__ a hard world out there, there are hardly any hand outs without agenda__ attached, you have to make it and take it for yourself. Dog eat fucking dog.

Just imagine you are dying tomorrow. Everyday. You will be much kinder to the world, there will be more love in you. That way.