I don’t, can’t and won’t be who you want me to be. But in trying not to be, I think I kind of lost track of who I want me to be.
You could ink yourself until everyone knows all the things that you love. You could wear uniforms that give you all the authority in the world. Lose weight until there is nothing left. Paint your face. Suck in your gut. But in the dark, stripped down to your bones, all that remains is you.
I feel that I am finally growing weary of waiting to be consumed by you.
“— Fiona Apple