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“If Love Did Not Exist, I Would Be So Goddamn Sane.”


My dear,

If love didn’t exist I’d be in the record books, trust me. I’d have solved the problems of the world twice over. And if not that, at least I’d have slept tonight.

But like Van Gogh facing a blank canvas with brush in hand, sanity is the last thing I want right now.

Falsely yours,
Andrea Gibson

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“Remember, No Matter Where You Go, There You Are.”


My dear,

You can fly around the world to get away if you want. You can get high and drugged up if you want. You can find someone to get lost in love with, a career to lose sleep over, or a religion to get tied up in, to get away if you want. But you can’t escape for long.

You’re going to have to deal with yourself sooner or later.

Falsely yours,
Confucius

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“Let Us Forget With Generosity Those Who Cannot Love Us.”


My dear,

Let us remember eternally that not everyone has to, or will. And let us forget our pain, if only for a bit, so that we remember to love back anyways, even though the thorns hurt us so.

This is a prayer.

Falsely yours,
Pablo Neruda

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“We Have To Create; It Is The Only Thing Louder Than Destruction.”


My dear,

And most things outside of creation are, in fact, a destruction. A crumbling of sorts; of souls, and minds, and things alike.

Some say the pen is mightier, I say it is speaker, and poet, and screamer. I say it is louder.

Falsely yours,
Andrea Gibson

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“Knowledge Makes A Man Unfit To Be A Slave.”


My dear,

It makes a man stand taller in the fields. It makes him hold his gaze longer. It makes a thinker of him, and it makes him question.

Knowledge is a rebel maker.

Falsely yours,
Frederick Douglass

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“It Is Not Enough To Succeed. Others Must Fail.”


My dear,

But don’t lose your wits over that, everyone fails, even you.

What you’ve got to do is step up to the plate so many times that the odds eventually make you the last one standing, and a success. It is not enough to succeed, others must fail and give up before you do.

Afterall, the people who succeed the most also fail the most, they just don’t let their failures be the ending to their stories.

Falsely yours,
Gore Vidal

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“Style Is Knowing Who You Are, What You Want To Say, And Not Giving A Damn.”


My dear,

Loving science and not hiding it is style. Having your own opinion and not changing it for the majority is style. Being gay and not flaunting it is style. Being your child’s friend and parent at the same time is style. Ignoring the critics is style. Being dedicated is style. Prioritizing is style.

Style is… style is.. you, at your coolest.

Falsely yours,
Gore Vidal

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“We Are The Horror In The Lord’s Love Poem.”


My dear,

We are the aliens we fear.

We are that which no longer knows Earth; we no longer walk it barefoot, we no longer feel its rain, and we no longer feel its blowing kiss of a wind.

We are the hard consonants in a sea of soft vowels. We are the sudden spurt of bone chilling water in a warm shower. We are egg shell that’s dropped in the omelet that surprises when chewed. We are one second too soon, a sound too loud, a kiss too short.

Frankly, we are bad.

But we are also ever changing, and ever bettering.

Falsely yours,
Derrick C. Brown

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“Guard Your Heart Minimally. Security Threat, Beige. You Can Carry A Knife And Still Trust Everyone.”


My dear,

Carry it in your mouth.

Let it drop every time you speak. Let the sharpness travel the path of gravity, and let it leave none of its being behind. And if you must, for somehow you always must, pick it up again.. carry it in your mouth, and let it drop again.

Falsely yours,
Derrick C. Brown

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“When I Tell You I Need To Be Alone, What I Mean Is I Don’t Want You To See Me Changing The Batteries On My Confidence.”


My dear,

What I mean is I don’t want you to see me running on red, always in green. What I mean is that I am mortal, I run on finite, but I will never let you know that; to you I want to remain infinite; improbable, incomprehensible, in a good way.

Falsely yours,
Buddy Wakefield

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