“And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.”

― Sylvia Plath

There's this bittersweet part of me that grasps onto the meaningless words I wrote in a genre I cannot stand. Those stories are dead and need to be buried deep into the unscathed parts of my mind, parts that can morph those stories into something that the world will criticize and something that I will beam proudly about.

I am here to write what I choose to write, not what others want me to. My writings may be dark, brutal and utterly hilariously dark and complex. Always and of course complex like myself. I am no longer afraid to let my experiences morph into stories, because pure anguish and love can only be made into beautiful words.

By the way, I'm Hazel. I like tea, indie music, hippies, tragedies, and I promise...I'm only slightly neurotic.