Hold up
They don't love you like
I love you
Early morning, step into Gitane, quiet in the morning and still half relic with sleepy eyes but gleaming at the edges like it knows its worth. You have to remember your diamond self, she admonishes, and only surround yourself with those who do. This place was made for smoking indoors. A strange voice but familiar face steps in, fast friends you both talk a mile a minute about art and life and the beauty of growing into yourself before it's off to the next. My head swims with the reminder of all there is to do: winter convinces me all is lost and dead and withered, but spring sets my soul on fire anew. I haven't time to fuck around with useless drivel, there is art to create, and sunshine to reflect, there is a life to live and a road to travel, what are we standing around here for, are you in or nah? I'm going regardless, so now you must decide if you dare to jump. My hands are full of diamonds.
Step the fuck up.
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