Alraune

If you must know, writing about yourself is definitely not half as easy as receiving an Olympic Gold Medal. However, as it is demanded of me to fill this space, endow it with a part of my personality, I must oblige.

Well, I'm that one of a kind person who's alter ego keeps interrupting their general flow of life.
Which random person simply wants to kill herself one day and the next goes out with her friends, makes real weird jokes and ends up cracking up with everyone else over nothing? Call it a multiple personality disorder or whatever; however, alter ego or not, I craze after art, literature, dark and morbid poetry, staring at the clouds and music.

Oh yeah, they say, every teen in this galaxy is wild about music. Well, not every teen...just simply about everybody, exactly who isn't? Except the yogis that meditate on the Himalayas.
Though I must confess, I'm not your average music-fan-lover-junkie-you-get-it person. As one part of me listens to nothing but real classics (Chopin and Mozart) and practically worships Litz; the other half wants nothing but Tokio Hotel, Evanescene and Lacuna Coil.

I practically feed off mythology and the pagan cultures. Nothing fascinates me more than reading books such as the Iliad and learning about other countries and their cultures. With almost surreal exposure to the arts and literature, it'll be just plain abnormal if I weren't able to write.
Though sometimes, my brain tells me I should stop writing and just focus in getting into college. Seriously, which hapless secretly romantic, dark poet would adore physics as much as Edgar Allan Poe?

I live and breath all because of caffeine and chocolate, although I happen to be a zombie through half of the classes (especially on Tuesdays - imagine a double geography from morning where you learn about how many coal mines India has got and that cotton needs 210 frost free days for its cultivation- fascinating.)
For a person who has dreary views upon life, I must say, I usually get worked up very easily. Social Issues. Somehow, all I want to do is help people, the planet, animals, basically anything that holds importance to me; which is quite ironic in context since I wasn't able to help myself in anything - lest run into a wall and break my nose, which was honestly a big mistake, an accident...but I digress.

I completely surrender to the sound and smell of the waves clashing against each other, the wind as it whistles through my hair, and the smell of rain as it patters down on mud.

My poetry may seem very....hmm...vague? At first glance, well even I myself believed I wasn't making much sense as a potato. But when you look beyond all that, you can actually find the genuine emotions that helped shape my writing. I have been waiting, like what seems as eternity, for a stroke of the 'inspiration' that every person waits for. But finally, I resigned myself to the fact that if I ended up truly wait for my 'glory moment' to arrive, I'd mostly likely be all covered with cobwebs and my dentures lying around in a film of dust. So instead, well yeah, create your own inspiration (why does it feel like I'm giving away my recipe for my version of the infamous mud pie?) and let your fingers do the talking.
I know and I accept that people call be arrogant. They do unnecessarily keep emphasizing the point that I am too big for my boots and it is quite tiring now to keep retorting that yes, I can always get a bigger pair any day.

Have any questions? (all except the running into a wall thing mentioned up there)
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