"Who are you?"
I am the apple that REFUSED to fall on Newton’s head. Wait, what?!

The same old, 18-year-old, aspiring artist, fighting to break free of the toxic clasps of the consuming hypocrisy of society and the death grip of corporate slavery, trying to find that personal state of grace the ones before me may have sought. At a constant battle with the vices and foes – most of which happen to live within. Restlessness rooted deep within the soul and no amount of Zen practice, learning or companionship has ever been able to override it (until recently). I have rendered education overrated and consensual killing of the spirit, and it seems to have rendered me the same – although I’m an avid reader and in irrevocable love with art, literature, philosophy and psychology. Pink Floyd, After Eight chocolate and comfort food – ways to my heart. If you’re ever feeling blue, you’d find warm hugs here, and perhaps if you’re lucky, even fresh baked brownies (although that’s limited to the special few). As nocturnal as they come – always function better at nights, especially when snuggled in a blankey with a good book, some food or a nice show on Netflix. Sigh…

Hard at work.

Writer, painted, actor – and an unreasonably tiny human being with a loud voice and a big head.

Weaknesses? Sigh… YES!
Sucker for summer bodies, the 70’s era and loveeee! And as of recent, Steemit! Love the people and how talented, heart-warming they are – hoping to grow here. Always in trouble for being a hopeless romantic. Can kill for food, good music and a good scotch (Sigh)

Fam:
Momo bear: Also artist - My perfect little jelly balloon and hug pillow.
Baba bear: Also artist – dignified, principled and oh-so-extra

Little shit: (middle sister) – also artist, confidant, weirdo

Littlest shit: (youngest sister) – my little mad scientist.

Elder sister/friend/gay love: @mahamriaz

Second Fam aka Little Drops of Heaven:
The beautiful little souls in the family Daycare and Development Centre – wonderful babies I’m always tempted to squish, squeeze and steal from their parents – also perfect hug pillows. The light of my daytime.

I have a dream today. But unlike Martin Luther King, mine may not change completely the landscape of the biggest world power – or perhaps the world - today – it may not be the unyielding tide that changes millions of hearts and softens them up.
Mine revolves around my own personal universe – and the few people in it that make it whole. My dream is to keep the spark in their eyes from going out.

To define is to limit, correct? Then why must we conform to our own ideas of “who we are”? Who’s to say where your horizon should lie, and who’s to devise the standards of good, bad or successful to which we must adhere. Let us not bring to the notice of the readers our limited selves, but our visions of who we should be that one fine day of utter oblivion. Conquer hearts and conquer minds! Live; do not merely exist! Always go a little overboard with your love and care – nurture those around you. Cherish your family and go till the end! Do what you want and piss on fucking Everest! YEAH!!!!

Wishful thinking? Perhaps. And why ever not? On the contrary, however, the irony for me lies in the number of times I falter and do a double take when describing myself. Why do words flow so easy and calm when we’re writing about something that’s not about us? The last smoke helped though. I love you all. Looking forward to so much! Steemit forever!