blasting the mars volta with pastel dust all over me ive come to this realization.
im only brave at these moments.
confidence comes at these moments.
right now i could stick a finger at the pope and tell him to fuck off.
i could be fiercely beautiful.
i could tell you all of my secrets and not finish them with an awkward "yes i know its stupid" or a "im so dumb"
i could do anything.
but its only me and alot of music and alot of art supplies and no one to spill to.
i wish this was different.
i wish i had someone in this chair with me in that one, him watching me as a i scratch and drag fingers through colors. him thinking about the vicious and amazing being that i am. him being slightly afraid.
and me, feeling him.
if there was one person in the world who could want me like i wanted them, there would be no more fear for me at night. there would be sharp words sure, there would be no smooth sailings. but there would be connection.
and i want that so bad.
its all i hear over the blaring stereo.
its all i have left to want.