Collection of honesty

I wanna cook breakfast with you. I wanna do none of the things on the list of to dos. With you, I wanna go on a holiday. Paris, Hong Kong, Venice I don’t care,  Somewhere far away. Or a resort under an orange sky, While we count birds that fly by, There’ll be too many, but we can try. I wanna feel good with you. View the world through Greece, Feel peace. Swim into the navy blue ocean, Or float on the Dead Sea- you and me. Letting waves lead our motion. Look up to the stars, Or the bars at a long distance. The world is ours. Our existence will be consistent with this traveling. We’ll leave our footprints in the sand, Take my hand, No plans.

Baby I'm imperfect. Below this make up, are shades of blemishes before the surface. So please don’t tell me I’m beautiful. At least not yet. You haven’t met me. If I cry, and mascara dries under my eyes, If my concealer melts under the sun, If one day I wake up, think no makeup- I’m done. And you see through the scars on my face. Embrace my soul with true love and grace. If you can look through it all, See into what I really am, And if you tell me I’m beautiful even then, Then baby I’ll believe you. I’ll believe I’m beautiful.

His soul shines so brightly, His heart more precious than pure gold. T'was today that I realize, it was a loss to let him go. While I was holding some other man's hand, He watched with a torn heart but by my side he'd stand,  Ready to catch my fall cause he knew the boy was bad. Said he couldn't stand to see me sad when he found out it was over. I thought he'd be happy but he couldn't find satisfaction nor closure. He wish he could do more but he no longer desired to be the knight in my wars. "This train has left a little, I hope you understand. It wasn't the easiest thing, watching you leave with another man." We're still friends, aren't we? What more could I ask for. We can't change the past, regardless how much we deplore.  He clamped my hands between his palms and assured "I could've given you everything." But what's the point bringing up the past of something that turned into nothing.

With a frown she looks at me, As if I'm a clown drowning, In lack of anticipation of hell People are capable of giving. "It's bad" she cries to me, "They often don't mean well." Coating the stew with icing, But what's brewing in that spell? It's a merciless world she insists. But my parents rarely tell me this. So I don't intuitively turn to malevolence, What goodness in that have I missed? She mocks my naivety, watching the contuse. Ready with "I told you so" to bombard me with "I know"s. See I can enter a world you've denied access to, A land where thorns on roses don't grow. You'll debate that's not reality, But in perception 'truth' doesn't exist. Reality to each is subjective. Whatever helps us subsist. In the midst of all this- fine, I'll be your clown, In my unjaded ways I persist. So no more love for you, no more hurt again, But how much goodness in that have

因为了解到世界的广大与多元 并觉知到自我的狭隘与局限 所以允许自己不懂得他人 也允许他人不懂得自己 所以不试图凌驾他人的意志 也不轻易投身于他人制定的评价体系 这大概就是最自由的孤独 最温柔的叛逆 你将在你身边营造出一个求同存异 和而不同的小世界 淡泊而静谧