When emotions are written all over your face.
It's strange how a strategic yet falsely alluring twitch can become a smile, and that love may be a singular fluid combination of many such foresaid movements, spasms, and close-ups. To put it simply: it can be a senseless dance -of the facial and body muscles- made to look pretty...tasty on the outside. On closer inspection, it may very well be a selfishly raveneous moving matter that consumes randomly, if one has to keep strictly to sliding through steps 1, 2, and 3 or when one is born to manufacture love, instead of readily spreading it out like a silly Santa.
It is devastatingly awful when living is a calculated war.
Which goes to show that, yes, I am the biggest hypocrite on Earth, and that's a shame really, because I try so hard not to be labelled. Or, or that everyone around me is unnervingly unattractive, and that I am a strange, and offlandish little girl struggling to accept herself by ...becoming someone who is seeking for something so moderately, and simplistically cliche.
You know, a pink plaster might just be the finest remedy. Or a nail. They both might very well be.
It is devastatingly awful when living is a calculated war.
Which goes to show that, yes, I am the biggest hypocrite on Earth, and that's a shame really, because I try so hard not to be labelled. Or, or that everyone around me is unnervingly unattractive, and that I am a strange, and offlandish little girl struggling to accept herself by ...becoming someone who is seeking for something so moderately, and simplistically cliche.
You know, a pink plaster might just be the finest remedy. Or a nail. They both might very well be.
mass attraction- only to appearance? becoming your religion?
satisfaction only on the surface, their eyes are always focused
go on and let it show, that there is no exception to the rule
Posted by
Anonymous |
3:39 AM