Ungrateful little bastard that i am, i come to see why i don't talk much.
What could you possibly say? You're cute, but not that much more. Social candy.
Rubbish, i say. We both know you've got your wits about you.
So, what's the point? Is it blame?
Were i to get screwed over for listening to you, do you think i'd look to you for compensation?
If i were
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Cause you gotta have faith to stand above the possibilities of criticism which will be limited in venom and misunderstandings when you find yourself comfortably in your own skin.
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I always thought that was kinda missing the point.
Had i thought it possible to love myself, perhaps i wouldn't be looking for solutions elsewhere.
'Searching for yourself is like looking for the house you stand in.
How could you possibly find it?
It's everywhere, it's all you know,
and there are no other points of reference.'
(Thank you.)
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And I love the quote, it is so perfect.
(And Thank You!)
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