we run because we want to be chased.

I didn’t want my picture taken because I was going to cry. I didn’t know why I was going to cry, but I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my eyes and the sobs would fly out of my throat and I’d cry for a week. I could feel the tears brimming and sloshing in me like water in a glass that is unsteady and too full.

nobody shall ever live in such mortal fear of being. being herself. being something other than what others want or need her to be. being someone other than her deluded self. being someone. anyone. just by being, you're already something. by trying not to be, you lose. bit by bit you'll lose it. and you may not feel it at all but when you're nearing the end you'll realise, there's nothing left to fight the end. so it's just the end. the end.


be thou exalted