aurora

not to be sadchudpilled on main but I feel like I don’t exist sometimes. teachers remember everyone’s name but mine, people always talk over me in conversations. I get looked through rather than at. people are surprised at things i tell them when nobody cared to ask.

I wish people would want to know more about me sometimes. About how I’m gonna go to college for journalism, or how I started collecting dolls. About how we have the facts and we’re voting yes saved my life, or about how banana yoshimoto weaves together perfect stories. Anything outside of me just being ‘quiet’.

when you practice kindness and i mean seriously, consciously choose it over and over again, it shows. that kind of selfless love etches itself into your laugh lines, steeps like a teabag until your words are inherently graceful. sometimes we spit out that choice through gritted teeth, but late at night when time stands still, the universe kisses your eyelids and promises you twice the love in return.