You can’t touch me. Not anymore. I’m gone, so far, and I’m coming back with a smile so large you’ll be terrified, a voice so loud you won’t know it’s mine.
The sadness is still mine, all mine to hug and hold and fuck and crawl into like a cocoon. It pushes me down the river. It makes my heart explode all over everyone.
There’s a deep undying hunger in me, similar to the one you knew. But this one does not feeling like emptiness. This one feels like freedom. It feels like a rain is washing over me and I’m letting it all in, and I can let it in forever, arms outstretched.
You were wrong. I can love. I can love everything, everyone, all the time, with my whole heart. Even you. But you can’t touch me.
it’s funny how when a white person decides to learn a foreign language and move to another country, he’s lauded for his sense of adventure, multiculturalism, appreciation of diversity and god knows what else
but when a person of colour does the same thing it’s all “fucking immigrants stop stealing our jobs go back to ur own country!111!!!”
Oh my god wow. You pretty much said what I have been trying to for years.
ok I went drinking 5 times in the past 5 days who am I becoming
I love people so much I don’t know what to do with all of the excess. I love people so much that I wanna bring them coffee ten minutes before their 10 hour shift ends and they can’t keep their eyes open, I love them so much I wanna kiss them however they need to be kissed when they’re sad or lonely. I don’t know what to do with all of this I love people so much I would disappear if it meant they could be happy