"Maybe I’m not that kind of beautiful
dressed in red lipstick and black eyeliner.
I’m not beautiful in the sense of
defined cheekbones, full lips,
curvy hips, and shapely legs.
I’m not beautiful like the sunsets kissing the sky,
the stars outlining evening wishes,
the freshly picked flowers,
and the softly murmured I love you’s.
So maybe I’m the kind of girl
with pale lips and dull eyes.
But I hope someday,
someone kisses the sunsets on my chapped lips
and outlines the stars on my cheekbones.
I hope he waters the flowers beneath the flaws on my skin
and screams I love you’s because his love for me
is meant not to be kept in secret drawers,
but to be plastered in the sky,
on waters, and in the wind.
I hope he loves
the no make up, flawed,
clumsy, and awkward
kind of beautiful."
on being me (NJ.)
Head to heart
"A fire broke out backstage in a theatre. The clown came out to warn the public; they thought it was a joke and applauded. He repeated it; the acclaim was even greater. I think that’s just how the world will come to an end: to general applause from wits who believe it’s a joke."
Søren Kierkegaard, Either/Or, Part I (via certifiedninja)

Marie Agnes Gillot
Giselle - Myrtha
photo: Anne Deniau
cognitive dissonance


"I was always made to feel like I’d be successful because I always did my homework. I wish I’d spent more time putting energy into things that came from myself."