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Body.
Your body is your home, your canvas and your temple. Everything on your body tells a story. Everything on your body makes you more gorgeous and more apart. Your hair might be curly or straight or even wavy or even colored or short or long as well, but they are the ones who add more glory to your body. Your face might be the home of pimples, acne, beauty moles or even facial hair, but they still set your beauty apart from others. They make you different. Your eyes might not be the most beautiful ones but they surely are the reason behind you seeing the beauty hidden in the darkness.Your arms might be a place where you created your art with a blade but they are still strong enough for you to make you choose a paint brush instead of a blade to create art. The stretch marks on your thighs that were once disturbing for you, are today the reason behind your positivity. Your body might be a plus size one or even a skinny one but it is the reason behind your strength. Your body is. Love your body because it is the only home that can comfort you when you will be alone. Respect it because it is a temple which deserves to be respected. Love your body as it is. -kee.kh
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The healing is going to hurt. It’s going to be hard. You’re going to wonder if things are even getting better. You’re going to struggle and cry and wish it was over. You might feel as if you are breaking.. but you are not. The cycle is. You are helping the healing of generations of pain, and this is why it hurts so much. Don’t give up. Souls around the world are rooting for you. You are healing.. you are growing.. you are breaking the cycle of pain.
"You never reach any truth without making fourteen mistakes and very likely a hundred and fourteen. And a fine thing, too, in its way; but we can’t even make mistakes on our own account! Talk nonsense, but talk your own nonsense, and I’ll kiss you for it. To go wrong in one’s own way is better than to go right in someone else’s. "
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What kind of world are you producing with your art?
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"The longest way must have its close,—the gloomiest night will wear on to a morning. An eternal, inexorable lapse of moments is ever hurrying the day of the evil to an eternal night, and the night of the just to an eternal day. We have walked with our humble friend thus far in the valley of slavery; first through flowery fields of ease and indulgence, then through heart-breaking separations from all that man holds dear. Again, we have waited with him in a sunny island, where generous hands concealed his chains with flowers; and, lastly, we have followed him when the last ray of earthly hope went out in night, and seen how, in the blackness of earthly darkness, the firmament of the unseen has blazed with stars of new and significant lustre."