Walking down Bangla Rd. There is a monsoon in Phuket, and still there are more prostitutes than rain drops.
“Do you think you create fake friends, and fake stories, to hold a form of control, and to live through a made-up world where you are safe, to not bear the pain of reality?” my imaginary friend asked. “Probably,” I replied.
If you are so good, do it yourself, reinvent the world. The arts do not need a gatekeeper. It has the beauty of the rose with the determination of a weed.
I'm sorry Michelle, I have a sense of freedom that is easily corrupted. I live in a world of seduction and I'm a measly fool.
Could it be, she is a victim of her reputation, by becoming what they think of her in a rebellion to what they think of her?
Often reality is not true, it just doesn’t know it yet.
Whilst smoking a pipe and looking into the night you tend to poke feelings and thoughts before reality creates them for you.
To walk in the unmanifest, in the heart of another and step on glass, and instead of crying you ask if they are okay because there is so much broken glass within them, well, that may be love.
"Yeah, so maybe don’t get your hopes up too much, maybe don’t travel across galaxies for it. Also, this is a thought I just had as I was talking, maybe not knowing is better than actually knowing, the anticipation is better than the resolution, the open ended story is better than a completed one, like life you know?"