Wondering what oh what am I doing. What oh what, and why can’t I stop.
Daaaaaaamn this is pretty
Othello, Act 5, scene ii
"And once the storm is over you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about."
People don’t really understand, but having people stare, and point, and take pictures, even if it is in a positive framework, is quite isolating; there’s no two ways about it. You feel a little bit, you know, freakish.
Please don’t be angry with people for not understanding something. Explain to them. Educate them. Inform them. Do not yell and call them names. Because they will still not comprehend. Except now, they are hurt. And you are the asshole.
"The real lover is the man who can thrill you by kissing your forehead or smiling into your eyes or just staring into space."