Begin by telling me of your deservings, The beings of bodies, and what doesn't matter. Perhaps it was the speed of my rumble as your soul lifted to see my eyes. Recognize what's in my book, I got images of this single myth. Maybe it was this complete situation a face that stares at me with indiscretion. Somehow and somewhere I've met anger.... Can't this grimace frown be embraced by an upside down rainbow like a crazy smile? I'll keep reciting that it's not hard. Because these flames are effortless and soledad's are not difficult...
In relation to my witty character
- soledad
- Provo, Utah, United States
- I wonder if I am someone that can be described without allegedly doubting my purpose for this writing. So, what is my purpose for writing, and can it be denied? A name, an image, or some kind of an explanation that can illustrate what I'm all about. A good writer? a great writer. A detailed thinker or someone that recites a lot? I suppose it is all questionable. I don't always know how to define the word description when it comes to an outline of myself. There are countless narrations to portray my individual personality, none of which I can think of right at this moment. But, I'm certain you have come up with somewhat of a distinguishing summarization in relation to my witty character.
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