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she appears composed, so she is i suppose.

completely invisible.

my heart is a fiery pomegranate

Monsters cannot be announced.
One cannot say: 'here are our monsters', without immediately turning the monsters into pets.
- Jacques Derrida

this is a journal filled with true stories disguised as fiction or whispered through poetry. my entries are public; i only friend artistic journals since i'm not on LJ as often as i used to be.

reading these quotes and poems of mine and others' (memories!) should give you a messy portrait of me.

(hover for description)

She breathed hot air into the snow to see if she could
reflect some charge somewhere, distribute her passion
into something just to see a sign that her enormous
feelings were not just an illusion, but a truth of sorts.
- Emma Magenta

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