It’s no secret girls struggle with fierce insecurities. we pick apart our own bodies, and on our worst days we pick apart the bodies of others to reinforce our crumbling self-esteem. it’s a dangerous cycle that needs to come to an end.
perfect doesn’t exist. a model in a magazine isn’t perfect. the “skinny girl” hides just as many demons as the “fat girl.” we are all humans trying to figure out how the hell to do this thing called life, so let’s stop tearing each other and ourselves down trying to reach unattainable goals. you will never be what you see as perfect, but you will be perfectly you, and that is so much better 💋
p.s. :: not that it matters to you, but i’ve always thought flaws were the most interesting parts of those i meet.
Ever achieved something purely out of spite?
it is so much fun.
you get to look at them and go ' i believe i have proved you wrong ' .
it is time i proved people wrong.
as always, wreak havoc. .
i did come across love, a few times.
the kind, that whispered poetry,
leaving my mind in limbo and
warm glitter, pouring down my heart.
till i realized, love is constraint,
you love a bird ferociously free,
and then cage it to be together,
the only way you can he happy,
is the condition to attach & possess.
that's where we find our safety.
We stood in an open dirt field with deflated balloons sprawled around us; the red earth revealing itself in the break of the dawn. a single light hung over where they were serving coffee. i was content in my space beneath the stars eagerly waiting for the skies to come alive with the thunderous roars of rising flames. #wordsfromtheroad