PassionInFlames

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About Me. What about me? What draws your attention, random stranger searching my profile? Could you want to know what my favourite color is? How about what stereo type I fit in with? Maybe you only care about my taste in music, books, and movies. These things are all components of myself, things ABOUT myself. But they aren’t me. They’ll never make you understand who I am.
Who am I? I might be the girl making a fool of herself by dancing in public, or the calm quite girl in the library, her nose deep in a book. I might be your best friend, I might be your sister, your worst enemy, an idol, competition, a loser, someone you don’t look twice at on the street. I could be all those things, but as far as labels go, I like a Writer.
Writing saved my life. I don’t stop to question that little fact, but I also don’t go so far into it I’m willing to preach the whole story to the world. Not yet anyways, see, I’m still young. And I’m what all young people inevitably are, even the slightest bit, though majority of them would never admit it: I’m insecure, petty, self-doubting, angry, and a bit depressed. Don’t get me wrong, I know people are as different as snowflakes. But at the same time, we’re all the same
Sorry, Do I sound incredibly deep? Wise beyond my years? Like a complete poser putting her two cents on the internet thinking someone out there cares? See, that’s the problem with having limits to what I can say on here. You’ll never get the full story. You’ll never know who I am, not really, and it hurts that I’ll never get to know who you are completely either. Because I want to know you. You seem nice. 
Don’t be to excited that you don’t have to open up to me and I don’t have to open up to you beyond this block of self-important text. Because if you want, I can get to know you just the littlest bit, and same goes for you. How? Words of course. The best thing in the world.
Talk to me. Read my stories. Be yourself. Write your thoughts. 
Then you’ll know. And so will I ~