“Evil exists in the shadows of our world and I’m realizing that without the darkness there would be no light. We need both to stay alive.”

He dirtied my name with his dark and muddy lies. The earth he left grew flowers for the butterflies & now I thrive.

Truth as my armour. My sword as my pen. I’ll do what I will to prevail again. Shining so brightly so they shot me down. Did they not know how hard I would bounce?

I think I may be in way over my head. I’ll learn how to breathe underwater instead.

I have a habit of seeing through the cloak that they wear to hide what truly resides in their soul. I have a habit of tearing out skeletons from the blackest of closets; although it’s never the goal. I have a habit of forcing others to look in the mirror, at the darkest parts of their soul. And I no longer want to play the role.

I think we all long for someone we can be disgustingly honest with, and for them to love us anyway, and stay.

So what do we say to each other is the language of unspoken? The words are sweet; the space is bitter or is this just the them I’ve chosen.

Be aware of the judgments that you and others conjure. The words reflect the inner world; the doctrines that you sponsor.

Our interpretations reflect our imperfections. We will always read between the lines, but we decide what we choose to find.

Only after you have fallen to the pits of despair, can you fly to the horizon of hope.

I survived because the fire I have inside me burns brighter than the fire that surrounds me forever thriving with blazing vitality.

Sobriety is something I’ll never reach. There’s always another day, another urge to defeat.

How do we trust others when we can’t even trust ourselves?

Trust is an illusion. A systematically flawed word. A total forgery of a statement. Trust assumes infallibility – without errors, mistakes, or fuck ups.

Trust assumes loyalty; and loyalty in the true sense of the word, the infinite, devoted kind of loyalty – that kind of loyalty doesn’t exist anymore.

Trust insinuates that the human race is unfailing, faultless, flawless, and perfect.

I can feel her resurrecting. The one he thought he had killed. Strength realised in her resting. It was worth all the blood spilled.

As long as you are alive, you will either live to accomplish your own goals and dreams or be used as a resource to accomplish someone else’s.

You made my non-existent perfect fall apart and unfold gently in the arms of your pure acceptance. Imperfections that became alive, then anything that’s ever been known as beautiful.

Hatred’s the fuel that keeps me alive.

People have told me about organized crime in the fashion industry, but I can’t talk about that. I’m looking to stay alive.

The things that made me feel dead, made me feel alive again.

What is truly a part of our spiritual path is that which brings us alive. If gardening brings us alive, that is part of our path, if it is music, if it is conversation we must follow what brings us alive.

If I never wake again, I certainly will have lived while I was alive.

If we have to have a choice between being dead and pitied, and being alive with a bad image, we’d rather be alive and have the bad image.