I think you flirt with her. Are you aware of it? Is it because she’s thin? And has long golden locks? Because her eyelashes surround her eyes in a lustful manner? What is it? I’m not her. And I want to be. And will be.
Go to a coffee shop. Sit by the bar with the glass windows and look out. Look at all the people running to catch a train. All the girls with one too many shopping bags. All the couples too in love to care. Then you’ll see it - a bit of yourself in everyone. And somehow, sitting alone in a coffee shop had never felt so good.
note to self (via alunit)
