a piece of something

We’re born completely white, you know.

And I don’t mean the color, I just mean white in the sense of purity, complete freshness; an uninhibited surface.

We’re new and fresh and beautiful, like pages in a new notebook, or the white walls of my bathroom.

But I don’t think that’s beautiful at all.

I think the most beautiful things come when we’re tattooed,

with ink,

Or kisses,

Or scars.

After all, you can’t go through this life without starting a collection of something,

Whether its photos or leather jackets or lipstick

Or even something more strange like teardrops.

I think the most beautiful place is the ocean, because it’s a mess of things. It’s sand and it’s salt water, and it is filled with things that are big and small and ugly and beautiful and it just makes me feel wonderfully full to understand that no matter what coast I stand on, I am connected to the same little drips of seawater. It’s like sunshine, because everyone bathes in it. But it is more realistic because the sea isn’t always happy and yellow. And no matter if there is a storm or not, the sea is always there to watch.