my perfectly imperfect
Our society has a strive for perfection that I once tried to achieve.
I failed, and skin picking and other disorders are the ultimate proof.
Fun thing is, I've discovered that perfection is in the most uncommon things - sounds cheezy as fuck, as a stupid philosophic 22 year old would say, but I've realized that I've ended my race towards perfection - not towards myself, can't help it, but towards others.
In a place where everything has to be fucking goals, I think I found my own goals in life.
It's not a perfect snapchat worthy night in a popular club in Montreal with alcohol flooding everywhere - it's semi-cuddling, even if we're both on our phones cause our minds is fucking with us, we're together. A lil' hug here and there, I love you out of nowhere cause a random post made you think so and because duh have you seen that on tv GURL?
It's having no fucking idea how you managed to know either animes or wrestling shit but you do because the person's watching it - where else would have I learned the existence of the HSOTD anime and Fanta& Bob?
I don't need a bitch bragging about abs that I don't even have myself, and if you'd tell me five years prior that every body is beautiful, I would have laughed at your face... but they are.
Growing up, I've been able to see so much beauty around me - don't need to be perfectly trimmed to be sexy as fuck.
Those scars on our selves are so beautiful cause they make us who we are, either it's a scratch on the brow or sunspots, a weird growing nail or something because of a fucking dumb incident you did on your longboard and you apparently didn't go to the hospital because why?
A misplaced birth spot or beauty mark, uneven brows because one has a cut of when you tried to scratch your ass stand still on the bike, no hands, at eight years old, under eyes circles and bag that are either genetics or proof that you work too hard...
I don't know where and how I've been able to see beauty in these, but I did. Just like the day I wanted to believe my stretch marks were badass and that my wrinkles weren't as bad as I was scared about.
That even the oldest, washed out tattoo is part of someone's skin but also identity, wherever it's a humming bird remembering our great grand-mother or song lyrics they found would be more beautiful with Dafont than their own handwriting.
That older people with old piercing marks on their face just proves that they've been young once; but wisdom got to them.
Nothing seems more beautiful to me now than someone smiling even if the teeth are crooked or even missing, and nothing's more adorable that people talking about what they love and believe in - even if it seems small, you can see their eyes lightening up as they're explaining it to you - so for the info, I know about badminton and currently learning about wrestling, don't expect me to explain the fuck why but I'm starting to find it interesting; just like I almost did with anime and their fucking intro song, ugh.
Bad habits and stupid stuff make the person, not Instagram post and Snapchat stories.
Because when he's just there, smoking and looking at his phone while I'm comfortable on his belly, I realize that we never needed those expensive clothes that I stopped wearing the second I got there and that even if I wouldn't spend two to three hours doing my makeup, I'd probably be sitting in the same position, as happy - with the bonus of being able to scratch my eyes.
When my heart beats fast, I realize that it's not about salaries, the house we live in or what kind of exotic food we eat - an old Montreal apartment can be even cozier than a new house you just walked in. That there's no such thing as fame when you struggle to know who you are yourself.
Kiss me even when there's a 20$ lipstick on those lips,
Pop up in the notifications of that 300$ phone because even on a padget I'd smile to see your name.
Be with someone that hold a ringless hand and that would walk miles with you even if your shoes aren't brand new.
We all end up in a wooden coffin ou une p'tite urne ben tranquille.
Sleep with me in my old bedsheets and whisper to me the same stuff that I'll never get used to hear.
Tell me about that band you have, those goals in life and your day at work.
I am interested, as weird as it sounds.
I truly and genuinely care about you.
I've spent countless nights on Xbox live just listening to that voice even if it was just for saying that other bitches were hacking.
Play guitar even if it's just for checking if the cords are fine - if I fall asleep, it ain't because you're boring but because it's calming not having to stress about money and current events; as if your bedroom was apart of the whole world.
If I'm taking pictures, it's just so I can look them back to myself and remember how much I can't get tired of looking at your perfectly imperfect face and body; long funny mustache, sexy beard, that upper brow scar, those two yellowed fingers because you can't fucking stop smoking but you're so adorable when you do anyway, those incredibly soft tho hair that I'd play with and find so cute when you tie them up, those legs with that tattoo that I can't help but want more for my own self if I had the money, when you have your phone in one hand but the other one is there for cuddling me. When you're cuddling my legs even tho they're full of scars and then kiss me, and when you remove my hand while panic attacks make me skin pick it.
Anyway, relationships are better kept off than online.
And I'd take another sip of your energy drink with my pills, thank you.
Can't stop looking cause it's a way I've never been feeling.
'Maybe it shouldn't, but the level of trust has surpassed ever before.
There's more I'd tell but eh.
I failed, and skin picking and other disorders are the ultimate proof.
Fun thing is, I've discovered that perfection is in the most uncommon things - sounds cheezy as fuck, as a stupid philosophic 22 year old would say, but I've realized that I've ended my race towards perfection - not towards myself, can't help it, but towards others.
In a place where everything has to be fucking goals, I think I found my own goals in life.
It's not a perfect snapchat worthy night in a popular club in Montreal with alcohol flooding everywhere - it's semi-cuddling, even if we're both on our phones cause our minds is fucking with us, we're together. A lil' hug here and there, I love you out of nowhere cause a random post made you think so and because duh have you seen that on tv GURL?
It's having no fucking idea how you managed to know either animes or wrestling shit but you do because the person's watching it - where else would have I learned the existence of the HSOTD anime and Fanta& Bob?
I don't need a bitch bragging about abs that I don't even have myself, and if you'd tell me five years prior that every body is beautiful, I would have laughed at your face... but they are.
Growing up, I've been able to see so much beauty around me - don't need to be perfectly trimmed to be sexy as fuck.
Those scars on our selves are so beautiful cause they make us who we are, either it's a scratch on the brow or sunspots, a weird growing nail or something because of a fucking dumb incident you did on your longboard and you apparently didn't go to the hospital because why?
A misplaced birth spot or beauty mark, uneven brows because one has a cut of when you tried to scratch your ass stand still on the bike, no hands, at eight years old, under eyes circles and bag that are either genetics or proof that you work too hard...
I don't know where and how I've been able to see beauty in these, but I did. Just like the day I wanted to believe my stretch marks were badass and that my wrinkles weren't as bad as I was scared about.
That even the oldest, washed out tattoo is part of someone's skin but also identity, wherever it's a humming bird remembering our great grand-mother or song lyrics they found would be more beautiful with Dafont than their own handwriting.
That older people with old piercing marks on their face just proves that they've been young once; but wisdom got to them.
Nothing seems more beautiful to me now than someone smiling even if the teeth are crooked or even missing, and nothing's more adorable that people talking about what they love and believe in - even if it seems small, you can see their eyes lightening up as they're explaining it to you - so for the info, I know about badminton and currently learning about wrestling, don't expect me to explain the fuck why but I'm starting to find it interesting; just like I almost did with anime and their fucking intro song, ugh.
Bad habits and stupid stuff make the person, not Instagram post and Snapchat stories.
Because when he's just there, smoking and looking at his phone while I'm comfortable on his belly, I realize that we never needed those expensive clothes that I stopped wearing the second I got there and that even if I wouldn't spend two to three hours doing my makeup, I'd probably be sitting in the same position, as happy - with the bonus of being able to scratch my eyes.
When my heart beats fast, I realize that it's not about salaries, the house we live in or what kind of exotic food we eat - an old Montreal apartment can be even cozier than a new house you just walked in. That there's no such thing as fame when you struggle to know who you are yourself.
Kiss me even when there's a 20$ lipstick on those lips,
Pop up in the notifications of that 300$ phone because even on a padget I'd smile to see your name.
Be with someone that hold a ringless hand and that would walk miles with you even if your shoes aren't brand new.
We all end up in a wooden coffin ou une p'tite urne ben tranquille.
Sleep with me in my old bedsheets and whisper to me the same stuff that I'll never get used to hear.
Tell me about that band you have, those goals in life and your day at work.
I am interested, as weird as it sounds.
I truly and genuinely care about you.
I've spent countless nights on Xbox live just listening to that voice even if it was just for saying that other bitches were hacking.
Play guitar even if it's just for checking if the cords are fine - if I fall asleep, it ain't because you're boring but because it's calming not having to stress about money and current events; as if your bedroom was apart of the whole world.
If I'm taking pictures, it's just so I can look them back to myself and remember how much I can't get tired of looking at your perfectly imperfect face and body; long funny mustache, sexy beard, that upper brow scar, those two yellowed fingers because you can't fucking stop smoking but you're so adorable when you do anyway, those incredibly soft tho hair that I'd play with and find so cute when you tie them up, those legs with that tattoo that I can't help but want more for my own self if I had the money, when you have your phone in one hand but the other one is there for cuddling me. When you're cuddling my legs even tho they're full of scars and then kiss me, and when you remove my hand while panic attacks make me skin pick it.
Anyway, relationships are better kept off than online.
And I'd take another sip of your energy drink with my pills, thank you.
Can't stop looking cause it's a way I've never been feeling.
'Maybe it shouldn't, but the level of trust has surpassed ever before.
There's more I'd tell but eh.
Commentaires
Enregistrer un commentaire