The Empty Eloquence of FoolsKate. 18. Pansexual.
things I like: Licorice. The color green. Foxes.
I'm a thinker, a dreamer, a well-fed artist who spends too much time in her head. I count music notes instead of sheep, but even then I still have trouble falling asleep.
I love the smell of rain on cement.
“You know, it always has to do with the eyes. It always has to do with the gaze; the natural warmth of it, the unfathomable clarity one’s eyes might sustain or not. I used to love the way you looked at me: you made me feel like you weren’t simply struggling to understand my ways, in a way you already understood without quite knowing. In a way, you weren’t struggling or trying in the least. You quietly observed without judging, you listened deeply, undisturbingly, absolutely. You were authentically perceptive; I really liked that. I always thought we did share something in common which could beautifully transgress all further complexities: We knew how to look one another in the very core and get it right. And we did get it right. And a certain tenderness was always floating around while each exchange of glances. It was the kind of tenderness which perhaps whispered not merely "I see right through you" but also "I feel you. Right there. I feel your thoughts. I sense your mind. I accept whatever follows"; a strange build up of exciting and immediate intimacy. Yes, it’s always been about the eyes. Your eyes, mine…it’s always, always the eyes.”
It is a Friday night and here I am, once again, laughing at cat gifs on Tumblr.