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So Apropos
Saw death on a sunny snowFor every life, forego the parable. Seek the light, my knees are cold. (Running home, running home) Go find another lover; To bring and- to string along. With all your lies, you're still very lovable. I toured the light, so many foreign roads For Emma, forever ago. |
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about art.
Art is what you can get away with.
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bridget.carine. divinia. jieyang. gabby. michelle. monica. muk. patricia. sara. wendy. PLAYLIST twitter
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Design: doughnutcrazyIcon: morphine_kissed Do credit accordingly if you changed the icon. |
Being afraid is the worst thing in the world. To lie alone and to think about eternity, confusion and salvation, and them all together or existing apart. Being afraid that one day all your beliefs will fail you and your morals are inversed; regret exists when you act rather than not, and happiness occurs in ignorance rather than knowledge, and fulfillment is impossible. Perhaps I'm a fighter who takes the punches, perhaps I'm a dreamer, perhaps I'm a child who believes in true love. Whatever I am, I will be human, full of guilt and sorrow and impulses. The way I act will be subject to forces beyond my control. Not all the time, but it inevitably will be. I'm tired of being strong when others see me weak. I'm tired of idealizing in a realistic world. I'm tired of feeling the right emotions and doing the right things. But mostly, I'm scared of this world, and it's bitterness. I'm not it's Joan of arc, it's Mulan, or it's Eve. I'm immature and inexperienced, and insensitive, and I've tried. And I want to keep trying. But will the tree bear fruit? Will they be sweet or bitter? Will travelling the road be worth the breath? Will this sickness be healed? God, answer me. Lamentations terrify me. |