I found a passion at the tender age of 12.  A passion of literature, adventure, romance, predominate doom, and mystery. A passion of art; of beauty and integrity.  Words, like a guiding light in the darkness, or a means to answers of unshakable questions, brought to life to create feeling, emotions, and individualism.  A solitude in the big quaking and scary world. A home where every character, every notion, every desire, and every shame and sorrow understood me.  No one judged me here, or questioned me.  No one fought me, no one loved me, and ultimately, no one hated me. A vast indifference of words to create sensitivity, possibility, hope.  
It is there that I find life. 
It is there that I find peace and quiet. 
It is there that I find myself.