<p>I craft miracles with sensory.
I am blunt and harshly honest.
I can make the blind man see (nothing).
I am witty when required and sweet about 99.9% of the time.
When you find me in those quiet moments, I am secretly plotting your death.</p>
<p>Musically, I write the songs that are not easily noticed but are ballads that cut like glass that has been sprinkled in sugar and stardust.</p>
<p>Poetically, I write poems of pure emotive content and abstract imagery. </p>
<p>Artistically, I am a mess of colours and shades used to make you vulnerable and uncomfortable. </p>
<p>Verbally, I speak Standard English and my slang is painfully obvious a majortiy of the time. </p>
<p>My friends are wonderful people that I love to the max.
My family are mixed-up collages of flesh and oddity. I am more than just the black sheep.</p>
<p>I love the sauce(booze) because alcohol is a social compound of pure friendship and emotion that makes all truth come out the mouth like a disgust fountain.
Meaning, I only drink with friends.
Drugs are a no-no.
Aviod Dust-Off! computer cleaner.
Within 30-seconds it turns bird chirps into laser beams.
I was once a super devoted Straight-Edger and that was like 4-years ago.
Look what happened now... </p>
<h2>Trust me honey, I love causing a scene. Invite me to your party. </h2>
<h2>*Top 8 in alphabetical order! </h2>
<p>I love abstract anything.
I love speaking my mind.
I also love debates.</p>
<p>Weirdness is lovely.
The sun burns my skin.
And I burn easily in the sun.
Crisp skin and dull eyes.</p>
<p>Hmmmmmmph, what else would you like to know????</p>
<hr>
<h2>Summary: My favorite pastime is putting myself in a room filled with people engaging in random converstations with hints of majestic ambience filling the room with it's transparent air as I place an awkward gaze at random objects and distant faces. I would like to call myself an artist but that is an understatement, anyone can say the same. I am generally very polite and quiet (I am plotting your demise in my mind.). </h2>
<p>It's random poetic mess time!</p>
<p>As though the spectator suggests. </p>
<p>"Confidence." he said. </p>
<p>Shivering lips ignore spins launched through revolving doors. Go, far from here, ye wasted youth. I have frozen the rest of your breed in distant whispers laid echoing. Fangs sink like battleships, the ones we used to play in your basement. </p>
<p>Loathe set in your idiotempermental manufacturesque gold wire. </p>
<p>"Confidence is fleeting." he said.</p>