Life falls apart and then it’s beautiful. Often destroying everything is a necessary step in becoming what you were meant to be. Trees grow from seeds and I was a piece of shit who turned into a human. Magic is real.
And I need all the reasons I can find not to hate myself. But it’s hard. Even the idea makes me shiver. Because I see loving myself like looking down on others. Riding around on a high horse. And I never want to think I’m better then the people I see on the street. The ones who have it rough. The ones who don’t fit in. The ones I see my own face in.
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