i’d have no concept of love if it wasnt for books, nothing to compare it to, no emotion to understand, and no name to call the feeling.

I’ve spent year cultivating the everlasting flavour of love, and this is something which billions of novels have been written about- this is the subject which has always capitvated us.

However, Lust always precedes love and without that translucent, decadent and buttery image and general assault we usually make of love, lies the true feeling of love. That is, when we are talking about the sort of love that brings people of non blood relations together. we are not to judge upon circumstances however, especially when remembering the Goalers of Annapolis Valley in Nova Scotia. Their love had precedent, the sort of oddly blood substance kind that creates novels which shock literary genre out of water and win these individuals prizes of all sorts. 

but yes, here we are again, talking about love as a feeling and not just as a word.  But as we say in greek- EROTA, meaning I am in love. and yes, it is certainly me in a first person sens

One of my talent's is applying eyeliner without a mirror

the other one is french braiding my own hair ( while being a hopeless waste at doing anyone else's)

I am also ambidextrous. 

I am like a mage, as striking as could be and the rain turns me to rust as the time flees

the end, mundanely and obviously enough is drawing near. Here I am flying back again to a time that spreads as vast as the land, without charming villages nor 3 am pastries.

I feel hectic and chaotic and like I cant catch my breath- I feel the same way without YOU sometimes when I remember what its like to be around. I am so conscious you are never in my dreams

All I really need is that tiny bit of encouragement and I will banter on for days. Sometimes I am quiet like a kitten, just a mew mew here and there.