“please speak well of me”

looking back now
i only wish i had been kinder
did i ever know love, did i ever know love?
and could i have been blinder?

— — —

believe the best about others and believe they believe the best about you.

why is that so hard? a glance or a matter of phrasing can kill me sometimes if i think someone is misinterpreting situations based on an assumption i know (or at least believe) to be untrue.

if i really know whether it’s true or not, why do i care what they think?


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