Okay…So at this point in time, I probably spend around 10 to 15 hours a week drawing/painting (Which is ALL of my free time). When I begin taking classes at the Fashion Institute of Tech in the fall I will be putting in at least 42 hours of drawing/painting a week….
At the end of the semester I will sneeze acrylic paint.
So.. I want to do something for her. I want to do something for her so that she will remember me always. I want to do something so spectacular, because I love her. I love her to piece’s; and she deserves the best. She knows I love her, I just want her to know how much I love her; and I want to impress her. At this point I think she is unimpressed with me. I love this girl so much that I would eat 20 tomatoes a day so that I can keep her around (full with skin tomatoes).
I know that I am moving hours closer to her. But till then I want to keep her interested. For me… Words simply cant describe the emotions I have for her. There is no way my words are impressive, or interesting, or entertaining; there is no way you can mix up ‘I love you’. I love her to death. I want to show her that I love her in every possible way I can possibly show her. I want to keep her on her toes.
H/T to @classicistmike for his post (since deleted) that informed me of this. My thoughts and prayers go out to the people of Poland, those who worked with Lech in the Solidarity movement and the LGBT population of Poland who lost their dignity years before they lost their head of state.
I don’t like to hear that you’re deconstructing yourself. I know it hurts each morning, to gaze at a mirror and not have the body you want. That your brain is screaming, and your heart is pounding in the wrong body. But it’s just a shell, and your shell is not what I love. Perhaps I adore stroking its skin, kissing its lips, and make it shake and quiver. But at the same time, the heart that pounds underneath is what I am, always was, after.
I can almost feel it in the palm of my hands sometimes. I can tell you I love the way it curves into my fingers, and pulses. I like feeling it move, knowing you’re still taking those shallow breaths. How you breath when you’re all tied up, makes me wonder. Your beauty is not in the shell you are changing, but in the eyes that hold mine so tightly. In the brain that helps your mouth spew words that turn me red, and more than anything, that pulsating heart.