Dancing with the Stars
I hate myself. But I hope to get better.
I'm unsure about the world around me.
I don't trust.
I try not to get attached (but I do anyways).
I love art and music and writing and all things beautiful.
I believe in love, still, somehow.
I've realized the eye can not see, and some times it's better like that.
I mean what I say, if I truly believe in it.
I lie too much.
I am way too fake.
I believe everyone's beautiful until they prove they're not.
Haters gonna hate.
Love is complicated. I hate it. I love it. It's confusing. It's amazing, beautiful, the best. But, it's also horrible, devastating, and the worst. I just hope for the best.
I'm also a hopeless romantic.
I love you! You are all beautiful, and even if I don't believe I am, I hope you do.
No one knows the real me.
And, sometimes, even I don't.
And the real truth is this: I'm scared.
