"ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ꜱɪʟᴠᴇʀ ʟɪɴɪɴɢ ʜᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜ ᴏꜰ ɢʀᴀʏ."

Cynic.
Sarcasm fluent.
Bitter.
Self control, is an option.
Involuntarily nice.
Unhypocritical.
Stubborn. 
Humbly arrogant. 
Wise.
Colorful.
Younger than I seem.
Introverted but extroverted.
Things can get better. A sliver of hope can be reassuring.

"Books are for people who wish they were somewhere else."  Mark Twain

Literature is a place of possibilities. I intake the wafting scent of the thin, bark sheets as I scour through the spines of each masterpiece, words dispersing on each page, gathered onto the yellowing paper, bringing forth to the hypocritic and cynical, experiences, morals and values, through stories, real or imaginary. Inducing tears, awakening consciences, reviving emotions, heightening the yearn to escape the vice, and painfully real world. To escape into a place that is transformed into the only lifeline, hope, and thread that carries our lives. 

It's been the only aspect of my life that was consistent, as the storms hurled, the thunder crashed, emotions sprayed, shards scattered, pain splattered, skin tingled, tears sprinkled, the ability to cradle a possibilty of escape in my arms, hushed the winds and gently guided me into an insightful, distracting world. The impossible made possible, the possible made impossible. 

I'll be writing books with meaning, a story to tell, not to please but rather to step out of comfort, and be prepared not to be pleased, in many ways they will be diverse.

"Writing the words the silence had left unspoken."

"Drawing the broken lines of a once erratic heartbeat."

"Papering the voices that shyed from reveal."

"Speaking for the unspoken for."

Copying, is not tolerated. References may be made with prior consent.

 • TheUnspokenFor