Santa Monica
People are fascinating creatures.
We affect each other in so many more ways than we could ever
possibly realize. Imagine the skill it takes to maneuver down
a hall or busy street. It’s an intricate dance we practice daily,
and performed with such ease, in which we all
move, one according to the other. The footstep, or shift of
weight on a strangers part across an entire room could alter
the course of the next few minutes of our lives quite
literally by the steps we take and on down the line farther
than we can ever begin to imagine. When we approach someone
on the street we must move to walk around them. As we notice
them shifting to their left we shift to our left as well, and
with the exact same movement our lives carry us in completely
opposite directions. A ridiculously simple way of looking at
it, but fascinating nonetheless.
My body is a temple to my dreams.
Each mark, tattoo, piercing, and scar hold stories behind them,and beauty is based on imperfections. They serve to enhance it in a way
that their correction, plastic surgery for example, never could.
I carry a piece of every place that I visit, and person that I meet on my body and in my skin. Because when I fall in love I don’t want to love someone despite their imperfections, rather, for their imperfections, and I want to be loved that way in return. And someday I will, when our eyes catch briefly across a crowded airport just before we both step to our left and turn away.
And that's called the life effect.
Don't go making all these promises when you know you cannot keep them because time will be the theif and your fallen king will end up alone
One day I will disappear. Just pick up and go. All traces of
me will blow away with the wind, and stolen pictures and
perfume on the bedsheets will be all that is left. And there will
be no need to search, you'll never find me. Though it won’t be
necessary because if you wanted to look there’s no
need, we’ll always meet again... so long as you believe you’re in my soul. And nothing is worth being perfect. Someday I will mail
you a letter with no return address, containing all the words that I know.
We affect each other in so many more ways than we could ever
possibly realize. Imagine the skill it takes to maneuver down
a hall or busy street. It’s an intricate dance we practice daily,
and performed with such ease, in which we all
move, one according to the other. The footstep, or shift of
weight on a strangers part across an entire room could alter
the course of the next few minutes of our lives quite
literally by the steps we take and on down the line farther
than we can ever begin to imagine. When we approach someone
on the street we must move to walk around them. As we notice
them shifting to their left we shift to our left as well, and
with the exact same movement our lives carry us in completely
opposite directions. A ridiculously simple way of looking at
it, but fascinating nonetheless.
My body is a temple to my dreams.
Each mark, tattoo, piercing, and scar hold stories behind them,and beauty is based on imperfections. They serve to enhance it in a way
that their correction, plastic surgery for example, never could.
I carry a piece of every place that I visit, and person that I meet on my body and in my skin. Because when I fall in love I don’t want to love someone despite their imperfections, rather, for their imperfections, and I want to be loved that way in return. And someday I will, when our eyes catch briefly across a crowded airport just before we both step to our left and turn away.
And that's called the life effect.
Don't go making all these promises when you know you cannot keep them because time will be the theif and your fallen king will end up alone
One day I will disappear. Just pick up and go. All traces of
me will blow away with the wind, and stolen pictures and
perfume on the bedsheets will be all that is left. And there will
be no need to search, you'll never find me. Though it won’t be
necessary because if you wanted to look there’s no
need, we’ll always meet again... so long as you believe you’re in my soul. And nothing is worth being perfect. Someday I will mail
you a letter with no return address, containing all the words that I know.