|Colors and images.|
Sums it up.
before, beforei am only just thirteen. he is sixteen. i am in love/lust/crush.before, before by Pretty-As-A-Picture
my best friends big brother, or friends ex boyfriend, is tall. once or twice i imagined kissing him. but he never would. he is friends with the boy who is sixteen. and besides he is my best friends big brother or my friend's ex boyfriend. and i am not a bad person.
i am tall too, you know. i am stretched skyward but there was no more to stretch, just bone. so i am not really that tall at all. but i pretend i am. how tall are you? oh above average, you know, pretty tall.
the brother says want to come and see j? and my heart leaps and i sing yes but he only hears a nod and there's no time to change. my chest is flat and my shirt doesn't cover my belly button but i don't really mind, you know, it's brown and flat like stretches of australia my father used to talk about. that's me; land.
the air is the kind of cool it only ever is at nighttime. not winter, no that's a different kind. you can tell by the night-y smell and the
My brain was formed when music notes were smashed into a bowl, colored on with crayons and sprinkled with rain.|
I breathe because I love living and also cause its involuntary.
People are all interesting even if they aren't. They are interesting because we all live our own lives no one knows everything about except that one person. They are uninteresting because no one wants to color outside the lines.
I like photography. I like to create images that explode in my head so people can see a bit what my inside looks like. Art is meant to be beautiful. Art is meant to be different. Art is meant to be outside the lines. Society just wants to keep it a secret.
I like music. I can't listen to you if a song is playing. I will be happy or sad or angry depending on the song no matter what. Everything else is irrelevent.
I'm irrational. Illogical. There is no reason for reason anyways. I'm happy jumping in leaves, laying down in the middle of the hallway, and singing loudly with the juke box in Waffle House.
I never understood how people always loved the outcast in movies, or the one character who was different, but in real life people who are different are looked down upon, talked about, and ignored because no one knows what to do or say.
I accept you.
I want to make me better.
People are all so fragile and beautiful in their own way.
Tell me anything.
No matter how bad it gets, its not so bad.
Cause I get to be me
and you get to be you.