Thought.is

The thing about gratitude is that when you recognize wealth, materialistic or spiritual, what remains is the probability of loss.

Sometimes my greatest fear is to be forced to talk. Like, when I am in a café, I absolutely dread yelling out “lawsamaht” to order or something, I hate explaining to the cab where my turn is and God help me if he is a talkative driver. How naked that makes me.

I look at a girl’s silky legs, firm shoulders, striking collar bones, rational hair, and I am angry at her; I truly despise her.

A week ago I was a little over tipsy and I asked a male friend to grab my boob. He said no. I am not sure if it’s because he is a gentlemen or because the thought of it disgusted him.