Anyway. The key is, make up shit.
Make up stories until you find one you can live with.
I learned it through writing.
Writing can be that.
Writing to bring the delicate dream to the tips of words, to kiss them, to rest your cheek on them, to open your mouth and breathe body to body to resuscitate a self.
Make up stories until you find one you can live with.
Make up stories as if life depended on it.
(Source: i-am-a-knife, via jeanetteleblanc)
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