Meg. I take and create pictures because looking at the world seems easier that way.
I also make stuff that are made up of words I find when I am with people and when I am alone.
I hope my photos and my words find their way to your hearts.

You are the worst small talk I have ever encountered. Why are we afraid to go beyond, that we might touch the most sensitive topics, including how much his skin brushed against my skin and how much her hair curled around your arms? Is it really this fragile, this line that connects us, has it become so thin, so weak, that we are afraid to test how strong it really is? We are the worst small talk we have ever met and yet we don’t stop. We discuss the beauty of the universe, the lines on our wrists, the books we don’t read and the times we wished we existed at the right time together. We never stop, we wait until the moon shines its brightest, we pretend we’re all lost stars in the dim light but we never find ourselves. We never touch, we never kiss, we never let the atoms collide, because we are that. We are fiction, we are the books we don’t read, we are the small talk we wished we weren’t.

—Small Talks, I wish we weren’t.

I guess when I accidentally sent you the message which I purposely typed, I wasn’t really thinking of how you would react. I just typed it, I read it and just like life, I accidentally took one of the scariest risks of all. And feeling that wind sweeping me away from reality was absolutely fine with me, even if it made me sound insane. At least I got to live.

You’re getting harder and harder to read. I wonder if my scent still lingers on you.

- Why Do I Even Bother
: Can you tell me? I'm sorry I don't get to talk to you as often as I wish.
: Do you want the truth though? Death. I'm afraid of all sorts of things and I bite my nails at night and I scratch myself because I feel like the pain oozes out of my skin when I do. I think about death, its beauty and its sorrow, and how much I love it when I open up myself to no one else but you.
: ...