It’s not about fairy tales or lullabies.
It’s not about holding tight until the pressure breaks you down.
It’s not about withholding personal information because intimacy scares the hell out of you.
It is about being seen for who you are and for what you believe.
It is about letting down your hair even if you don’t have any.
It is about your drumbeat being heard over the din of melancholia.
We all desire to be noticed even if the odds seem stacked against us.
We all desire to be at peace even if the headstones are uncomfortable against our sleepy noggins.
We all desire to be loved even if love appears out of reach and it has been decades since someone has said those words to you.
Landing the biggest fish in the pond is never what’s important.
Pretending you’re someone you’re not will only vanquish your most secretive of imaginings as night comes on like a slave trader.
The music inside my heart speaks loudest when I’m alone because getting on with people has never made much sense to me.
The light at the end of the tunnel makes up for lost time when hope stops equating fear.
We must forgo the voices inside our heads telling us not to try and accept chaos as a friend and not as an enemy.
Self-love and self-acceptance are the only drugs we need to get us completely wasted and lost in the tendrils of the sun.
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