This is me taking another chance, another attempt at the very beginning. I feel like a person who has lost her home to an awful fire and since then hasn't been able to settle, what with the bad landlords and inconvenient neighbors. And somewhere in between all this, everything about me has changed, or so it seems, except the thirst to express, or it might just be the last remnant of a deeply ingrained habit, the habit gone, but the urge remains. Or, I just don't want to believe that I have changed into that person who cannot express at all.
Hence this is it. I shall try to not make this one fail like the protected one I had before. I shall attempt to express. But the methods to the madness has changed. I have lost the faith in words. That would happen to you when something you put a part of yourself into for a good number of years is killed unfortunately. So you shall see some pictures, hear some music and maybe you will hear some words out of me, if I don't feel particularly shy at that moment.
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