I'm a Leo, obviously. Obviously.
Don't call me a self-fulfilling prophesy, but some days I can't decide if there is fate and there is destiny because some days I want that and other days I don't.
Today, as a Leo, stubborn, vindictive, tired, I am crying over you because you asked me not to. It's a lame revenge. It's a beautiful revenge. I know about revenge.
Yesterday, as a Leo, bright, loud, beautiful, I didn't have the answers for you, but listen to the way I shape the words "I love you" and you will love me back, because we are the same.
And I have lion hair and I am not a self-fulfilling prophesy. I was born for this. I was born under stars.
"I try to remember my youth. It evaporates into just a handful of memories. One memory was that you believed the entire earth was made perfect by God, and that humans came and fouled it up, as God looked down, shaking his head, saying, "How could they choose terror and loss when I have offered them perfection?" And then you got older and didn't feel that way. And you thought maybe God never really wanted perfection if he designed the things he made with an instinct to screw up. Fighting and failing became beautiful, hard. Screwing up became part of the program. You can call it sin, you can call it human, but maybe there are codes built inside of darkness needing light and vice versa. It did not shake your belief in the existence of a God, but it shook your belief in the bland necessity for perfection."
Here's six shout outs to six other Leos that I'm a big fan of: Hazel Baird, Millie Baird, Connor White, Alex Barker, Margaux Canali, Blake Westover.
"I'm not that pristine."
All my love,