For the moments when we feel in excess
22 August, 2024
This is dedicated for those things we say in excess. For the strangers before whom we allow ourselves to be vulnerable. It is about the revelations in the book you must keep to yourself. And for some editor, at most. About the statuses that are too personal. And for the hundreds of strangers who read them. About the desire to talk, but always in front of the wrong person. Oh, and that it might happen again.
For the people who never listen to you because they are too busy with themselves. And for those who don't see you. About imperfections (like the hand that made this drawing). For the moments of reasonless happiness. About your song that you want to sing, but something keeps scratching your throat. About the guitar playing while you're at the other table. For the melody you compose yourself and for the playlist that turns out to be your truly owned thing. Shh-t. Strawberry silence and short hair. And a lucky charm.
💕
For the people who never listen to you because they are too busy with themselves. And for those who don't see you. About imperfections (like the hand that made this drawing). For the moments of reasonless happiness. About your song that you want to sing, but something keeps scratching your throat. About the guitar playing while you're at the other table. For the melody you compose yourself and for the playlist that turns out to be your truly owned thing. Shh-t. Strawberry silence and short hair. And a lucky charm.
💕
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