Tuesday, May 13, 2014

a blast from the past.

ahhh, I remember now... even when I was twelve you would find me writing something on a piece of scrap paper torn from the middle of an exercise book when idle... I haven't changed much - you can still find me staring off into space, my hand cradling my chin as I think of possible scenes in my life or in the life of my fictional characters and write and rewrite and rewrite them in my head. how can I possibly explain how much I love writing? it's the only way I can express myself.

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