You walked into the life of a writer, You’ve just gained a hall pass to immortality. Your essence will live on, loving after you are gone.

its odd to be a writer, you hear someone's experience and you stash it away in some tiny part of your memory and you go on your way again, only to find; in a few lived through chapters of your story a piece of their puzzle became your pathway to hope and you create words from it, like your mind creates some kind of magic. 'Yeah, it's odd being a writer.

We all have a soul purpose. I can't be everything that the world needs, even if i dabble between all the crafts that shape me. I can be the expressive queen i am though, crumbling all the comfort zones this world has tried to build around me; to stop the evolution of my spirit. One day i am a calm breeze, the next i am a wild hurricaine - i am so deeply passionate, you'll feel me without a single hello.

Ache my bones, flame my muscles, tingle my nerves, but you will never taint my beautiful mind & I will overcome this condition with the belief that I already have. - CRPS AWARENESS -

i dont live in a fantasy; just a dream, that's to hard for some to believe.

She is a writer, what the fuck do you expect from her other than passion, truth and goddam soul?

To heal our world we must be silent; willing to listen to the roars of the wounded. We must teach eachother how to feel, only than can an entire nation grow in peace, as the war within will slowly diminish.