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About me... hm... what about me is there to know? Or, more importantly, what about me would you like to know. Seeing as how I couldn't possibly know this, I'll just say a few things and if you think I have not been thorough enough, you can tell me what it is you'd like to hear.

That being said, let's try and explain myself. I'm not entirely interesting, nor am I a complete bore. I'm what you'd call "semi-intriguing". Because I am generally a straight-forward person, let's start with the fact that I'm bi, mostly lesbian. I'm a firm believer in socialism, I think America could use a good socialist government. I play cello and piano, cello being my primary instrument. I'm also a giggly drunk, one glass of wine and I'll be laughing at nothing all night. My reading habits range from Dante and Faust to Dr. Sues and Green Eggs and Ham. I enjoy children's books, honestly because of the colorful illustrations they contain and because they're fun to read when I'm depressed. I love running, I do it every chance I get, I hate using cars, even though I own a vehicle, I refuse to use it unless it's quite necessary to do so. My dream is to move to Vermont and get my Bachelors degree, then transfer into a Canadian University, somewhere in Toronto most likely. I do write, not often, but sometimes. If you're interested in any of my writings, I will keep them all in my journal, if not, don't bother looking. Well, I think that's the basics, if you're curious and want to know more, feel free to leave me a comment, I always enjoy a good conversation.

An image is only what it presumes to hold and such an image is not but a reflection of something hoped and longed for but not sought after, resulting in lost premonitions of a dream like reality in where nothing is truly attainable and everything is imagined in volatile stages of somber illusion
~Sophia



This apology is for you, one I cannot back or prove, but one I must give. Please accept it with my humble resignation from your life here on out. Words no longer come to me like they used to, all that's left is useless mumbles of pathetic attempts to make right all I have wronged. If there were any way to explain without the added pain of reoccurring memory, I'd spill my heart in a heartbeats worth to show you it was never meant to hurt.
~Sophia
 

Pleasent Memory

We stood in the center of cracked stone.
The years first snow fall hiding us behind
blankets of uncertainty and eager questions.
All was silent in our white world, our bodies
pressed in perfect solitude, trying hard to
fend off the chill of unexpected curiosities,
unfolding themselves in our hesitant kisses.
It wasn't until the warm wet of tears caressed
my cheek that I finally broke the embrace,
concern now mixed with a calm placidity.
You smiled bravely as you wiped away the
cascading droplets running rivers down your face.
I made as if to speak but your finger
was upon my lips in an instant,
silencing the words you did not need to hear.
A silent understanding filled my mind
and I nodded in slow approval of your need
for mere embrace, all settled into white memory
as the years first snow fall hid us away again.