the worst thing in the world is “self-acceptance.”
why do we keep
living if the dull people we are today
are the only future, the only destiny?
I want to one day
be bold and vibrant; I want (more) self-confidence
and discussions of Kant after sex. I want
to weigh 125 pounds.
Why the hell would I condemn myself
to the mediocrity of today,
when I could be better tomorrow?
the last pavilion 