Colours

To start things off, I know I'm not john green or anything, but that doesn't mean I can't have the slightest amount of poeticism in my soul.

I may just happen to be some depressed girl, who writes to release her emotions that are causing a storm in her body, but those are the best type of writers right?
See, you probaly don't care, but the reason people like me write story's like this is so when their lying awake at 3AM, or their about to completely give up on themselves, they avert their mind to this book. This story. This project they are currently composing, and instead of thinking about all the negative, they silently slip away to their fantasy world, with no words aiming at them, like a arrow to a chest, waiting for it to be set off, but instead, whatever they would like to happen, becomes their small but of reality.

I don't exactly know what this story's going to be about yet, but I guess I'll pull the words together along the way.