When music makes me want to write. When words of others, read in a sleepless night, make me want to vomit my own soul on a blank page just to be part of such turbid splendour.

Doing my best to express my emotions is my way to thank you for just existing, for being somewhere out there, for letting my eyes sail through your thoughts from time to time.

You're wonderful, that's true. But not in the sense of perfection. Your lack of self esteem just makes you greater to my eyes, your darkest hours make your positive feelings glow even more when you recall your memories.

I fall in love with the world any time I get proof that such people exist, that they're walking each day among the others, capable of looking beyond good and evil, hosting them both but still staying above human limits, despite being often submerged by them all.


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Soundtrack: The Wilhelm Scream - James Blake

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