I honestly do not understand people sometimes. I work with people that are at the bottom of life's hardships. I help them get back on their feet again. There are many success stories of rehabilitation. Unfortunately sometimes. the stories end up being the "going around the mountain AGAIN"  type of endings.

Falling in love is more hassle then I ever want to have in my life. I hate the part that comes when love begins to crack. I can't deal with heartache. I never want to feel it again. It is an unwelcome guest I would gladly slam my door on, if it were possible to do so.

A few months ago I moved into a new apt. I absolutely love living here. It's everything I was looking for in an apt. Wood floors, open kitchen and living area, big bedroom, bigger bathroom, and lot's of closet space. It fits me perfectly. I love coming home from a long day of work and just lighting my candles, playing Dark Sanctuary and running a bath.

I have come to realize that the only thing that allows my soul to breathe is the gift of creativity. Men have their shortcomings, and the world it's chaos. Ah but creativity stands flawless, pristine, and bright in a darkened place called "reality". So I write, until the monsters have been conquered and the liars exposed.