When the world is too much, create your own. I do it every day.

You're too sane for a lunatic girl like me. You live in reality, while I tango in the jungle of my imagination making love to firecracker dreams.

Go places, everywhere you can See the world—Bring a journal, a camera Try new foodsMeet new people, make new friends Different culturesBring you to your authentic self.

Shiny, perfect thingsExpensive cars, fancy diamond rings Hardly impress meRather mundane, shallow, uninspiring Give me rough around the edges any day Dreadlocks and tousled hair are fine by me Body piercingsQuirky thingsVintage art, old records and books appeal to me Because they have charm, more personality

Don't compare her to sunshine and roses when she's clearly orchids and moonlight.

I swear that girl was born with a pen in her hand, the moon in her hair, and stars in her soul.

She's the kind of girl who brings you to the moon without you even being aware. The kind of girl you trip in love with, The kind of girl you never forget.

Always the wild child, conceived in flames, born of fire. Drawn to the forbidden, witch, warlock, burning stones. Her blood is made of moonlight; part dark, part light. Her heart, it's a sword; fiercely loyal and will fight to the death for those whom she loves. You can throw her in the fire, she always returns as a flame: the fervor is her anchor, her safe-haven... her blood.

I would rather dance alone under the stars than spend a lifetime hiding behind the moon.