Bittersweet is the perfect word, or as Señora Jones said "mal dulces" or bad candy. (She meant it in the way of bad but sweet).
Today, my father and I took a tour of the Art Institute of Virginia Beach. I don't know how else to put it except that I feel as though it's a perfect fit for me. Though, nothing is set in stone until January. It feels completely new and breathtaking, like standing at the foot of a summit and looking up to see how tiny and insignificant you really are. And in the same token, it's as refreshing as the breath out of you mouth right after you have brushed your teeth. Not all factors are this interesting, unfortunately.
You seem to love me when you're in a good mood and that upsets me. Some days I deserve the world and others I deserve nothing, some days I'm cute because I act like a kid and others I'm childish and need to grow up, some days I'm selfish and adorable and others I'm self-centered and stupid. I can't be everything but I am someone, and that person is simply Passíon.
I'm tired of pleasing everyone, it's my time now. And I'm going to accomplish everything and anything to make me happy. I'd like you to be the hand holding mine, doing something you love... We'll see. We shall see.
