A Quote by Kate Bush
Moving stranger,
Does it really matter,
As long as you're not afraid to feel?
Touch me, hold me.
How my open arms ache!
Try to fall for me.
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As long as I kept moving, my grief streamed out behind me like a swimmer's long hair in water. I knew the weight was there but it didn't touch me. Only when I stopped did the slick, dark stuff of it come floating around my face, catching my arms and throat till I began to drown. So I just didn't stop.
For a long time we dreamed of a real leather ball, and at last my brother had one for his birthday. The feel of the leather, the stitching round it, the faint gold letters stamped upon it, the touch of the seam, the smell of it, all affected me so deeply that I still have that ache of beauty when I hold a cricket ball.
It doesn't mean that I'm overly enthusiastic about much music. Except the people that really touch me. It has to touch me, it has to grab a hold of me, I'm not looking for anything in particular.
My experiences at Princeton have made me far more aware of my 'blackness' than ever before. I have found that at Princeton, no matter how liberal and open-minded some of my white professors and classmates try to be toward me, I sometimes feel like a visitor on campus; as if I really don't belong.
Fans give me abuse all the time. Nearly every team does that. If I wasn't a good player, you wouldn't feel like you need to boo me the whole game. So do that if it makes you feel better, but it does spur me on. It's like, 'You expect something from me; that's why you're doing this,' so I don't mind it. They can boo me all day long, really.
Just keep asking questions. Does this job allow me to be myself? Does it make me smarter? Does it open doors? Does it represent a compromise I accept? Does it touch my inner being?
I just try really hard to be me, and sometimes that means I'm unfiltered. I try to give people myself because I think making a great product is being in touch with how you feel about things and being able to express things. I really hope I can stay in touch with how I feel about things and I'm able to express that.
If you want to welcome me with open arms, I'm afraid you're also going to have to welcome me with open legs.
He turns toward me. I want to touch him, but I’m afraid of his bareness; afraid that he will make me bare too. ‘Is this scaring you, Tris?’ ‘No,’ I croak. I clear my throat. ‘Not really. I’m only…afraid of what I want.’ ‘What do you want?’ Then his face tightens. ‘Me?’ Slowly I nod.
Let me explain it to you then. I just had a beautiful girl trust me enough to touch her and see her in a way no one else ever has. I got to hold her and watch her and feel her as she came apart in my arms. It was like nothing else I'd ever experienced. She was breathtaking and she was responding to me. She wanted me. I was the one making her spiral out of control.
I started to understand what the song could be about. The ache of nostalgia even for things we don't like, the commitment to keep moving despite that ache. It made me think of how I relate to my privilege - as a white person, as someone who grew up upper middle class.
Your smile is one that goes on for miles. Your eyes shine like the brightest star in the night sky. When I see the first message you send me in the morning it lights up my day. When our lips touch I feel like I'm the luckiest guy alive. When I hold you in my arms I feel as if time freezes and nothing can tear us apart. You constantly make me smile and there's never a moment that goes by that I don't think of you. You mean the world to me and I don't know what I'd do without you in my life. I truly love you!
It's a constant process for me to learn to take the time to really understand what hurt me and how best to address it or respond. I tend to be reactionary, and that doesn't help me or others. I do try to keep my heart open.
I wake up in the morning, put on my face. The one that's going to get me through another day. Doesn't really matter...how I feel inside. This life is like a game sometimes. When you came around me the walls just disappeared. Nothing to surround me and keep me from my fears. I'm unprotected. See how I've opened up? You've made me trust.
The sort of public sex aspects of gay male sexuality did not appeal to me. And it wasn't just a matter of being afraid of them or being too nervous to try them. I did try them and they didn't work for me, they didn't feed me spiritually, they didn't leave me gratified.
If I say something honestly, generally, I am being completely honest and don't tell me I am lying. It drives me crazy to be told I set up my pictures. How does it benefit me to lie? I guess they are afraid to believe it and are afraid to look at it.
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