'My darling, girl,' I tell it to myself. 'Let your mind be, no need to explain its creative process to none, anyway they wouldn't understand, but girl, fear your heart for it is a foreigner. Be weather and whether, be patient young lady that you are impossible to be with, for a beautiful boy to save you from your old ways. He might be lost at sea, you cannot save him but do love him. You cannot run out of feelings, you cannot waste all the love of this indifferent universe that embraces and passes through you, that is you. You cannot love one better than the other, you know that, sweet little bee, for your heart only ever expands to let it fill it whole of your being to the tip of your toes. Dance, jump, skip, sing. Be gay. '
'It's Ok,' I lie. 'But darling girl,' she speaks to me again, my inner goodess, 'You must learn to appreciate just the enough that surrounds you, but never what is you and what can you be, and you can be anything at all. Anything at all! How very exciting!'
'Don't you dare shy from the people, they are just atoms.'
'I'm trying,' I say it, almost in a whisper.
'I'll try,' I promise her.
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