craig is the most outgoing introvert i've ever met. he doesn't have a best friend because he says he can't trust anybody, not even himself. half his thoughts sit locked inside his head like a bird in a cage, but if you ask he'll always tell you what's on his mind.
craig says music is his savior. he wants to get his favorite band's name tattooed on his wrist next year when he turns eighteen. technically it's this year but craig was born on new year's eve so his whole life begins a new year the same time the earth does.
craig's playlist is a general to his army of fingers and its orders are to write write write. craig writes his own music and it is desultory and chaotic just like his thoughts. because that's exactly what his music is.
craig smells like incense and the lake and burning leaves and wind all at once. he never answers the phone because he'd rather talk face-to-face. but he is always busy working at the bookstore where on fridays they let him pick the music to play.
craig is made of glass bones and a broken nose. he hangs windchimes above a rotating fan in his room so there is an erratic melody constantly playing and never stopping, except when the batteries run out.
craig finds happiness in the most hidden of nooks and crannies. but with a heart like his it doesn't last long and he jumps from nook to cranny without any sense of closure, and his mom tells me that he is just like his dad that way and his life is becoming a sinking ship.
craig never met his dad, and he never met a dodo bird either but he loves them both. the dodo bird is his favorite animal because they're extinct and he says that on the day he dies, the species of craig will be extinct too.
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