do you ever look at your follower count and think wow i tricked all these people into thinking im cool
Do everything naked/in just my underwear.. including mundane tasks like doing laundry, dishes, read the mail, home improvement. You name it, I’ll be doing it…. NAKED!
person: im just throwing my opinion out there
me: *slaps opinion out of the air* not in my house
I’m sorry. This phrase has been a butterfly in my mind fluttering from side to side. Bumping into my insecurities and fond memories. If my heart could speak for itself it would stutter as it tried to explain it’s lack of self-trust. It would whisper dreams of falling over itself just to be silenced by my overbearing mind. It is fed limitations and cautions for breakfast lunch and dinner and regurgitates them out of my mouth. ” You’re not ready” my heart whispers out.
But I want to be ready I want my heart to blossom with spring and hold back the lonely winds of winter. To push through the chains of command and open the gates and break down the walls. I want to match the fury and intentionality of another’s.
I want…. but realize I have wasted my efforts sending smoke signals out instead of feeding the flame of my passion. I have curled my shoulders and tried to heave my heavy heart and hurl it in you direction but that won’t do.
I do not want to remove my heart and give it to you. I want to share it. Calling itself an ambassador I want my heart to create treaties and truces within me. I want it to barter and battle with bitter memories and armies of isolation to liberate itself.
My love is at war and I cannot stop it nor ask you to standby and watch the massacre. I am calling back the ally forces but they still seem to be stuck in my crossfire. This is my choas and for that I am sorry.