(no subject)
A boy complimented my walk today. I thought him to be mad, but listened as he described it. I couldn't help but think of French Kiss when Kevin Kline told Meg Ryan that she does her little walk. I didn't know I had one that was noticable to others, but as we walked past the gumball machines and I tried to feel each foot as it took a step, I came to a conclusion--
I am very near to liking myself, which is, perhaps, just an extension of accepting said self.
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How I wish I could surrender my soul;
Shed the clothes that become my skin;
See the liar that burns within my needing.
How I wish I'd chosen darkness from cold.
How I wish I had screamed out loud,
Instead I've found no meaning.
I guess it's time I run far, far away; find comfort in pain,
All pleasure's the same: it just keeps me from trouble.
Hides my true shape, like Dorian Gray.
I've heard what they say, but I'm not here for trouble.
It's more than just words: it's just tears and rain.
How I wish I could walk through the doors of my mind;
Hold memory close at hand,
Help me understand the years.
How I wish I could choose between Heaven and Hell.
How I wish I would save my soul.
I'm so cold from fear.
I guess it's time I run far, far away; find comfort in pain,
All pleasure's the same: it just keeps me from trouble.
Hides my true shape, like Dorian Gray.
I've heard what they say, but I'm not here for trouble.
Far, far away; find comfort in pain.
All pleasure's the same: it just keeps me from trouble.
It's more than just words: it's just tears and rain.
~ Tears and Rain, James Blunt