This is my place of solitude. My perfect realm of introversion. A galaxy of emotions that you can marvel/make fun at (I don’t give a rat’s ass). I’m broken, Lost and don’t have any plans of getting found. I oftentimes write just to lash out my outrage about the madness and fallibility of this reality. I used to draw but now I’d rather write about my daily emotions than to scribble down my anger because I think I've really lost my talent. Someone took that away from me. This chronologies my daily outbursts, brain farts, emotional vomits that perfectly depicts my life. I’m the prince of Neverwhere. I have a TARDIS. I weave stories almost about everything. I have a pocketful of dream dust that is very handy when I’m in dire need of a great escape. I don’t care what you think of me. Just shut up and read.