I want my feelings to reach your heart.
We call ourselves Runners. We exist on the edge between the gloss and the reality: the mirror’s edge. We keep out of trouble, out of sight, and the cops don’t bother us. Runners see the city in a different way. We see the flow. Rooftops become pathways and conduits, possibilities and routes of escape. The flow is what keeps us running, keeps us alive.
|Anonymous asked: Im just kidding u're amazing xoxo im not worthy for u|
i know but i still love you my peasant xoxo
"What the hell?!”
An imagined place or state of things in which everything is perfect.