You’ve always loved watching waves crash against cliffs. As you grew, you began to paint them, spending many a day watching from different angles, capturing the chaos of foam and water in acrylic and oil. One day, when painting at the top of the cliff, you fall, and brace for death. But it does not come, and instead you feel as if you are cradled by the arms of many. “Oh no,” you hear. “We cannot destroy something that has loved us so beautifully.”
I have been told that I am a CUTE PERVERT. Mostly, though, I'm a bisexual witch-slash-mermaid-slash-cloud of chaos.
Honestly, I typically refer to myself as a human trash heap with delusions of grandeur.
"Take me or leave me; or, as is the usual order of things, both."
— Dorothy Parker
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We all are stardust 