5' 2"
28
Gemini
Mommy ... little girl (7)
Single....
Heartbroken.... on more than one occasion
Hopelessly optimistic ... my strength and weakness...
Love house music... also love to dance...
I'm an artist....
Those are my pieces on my page....
I write.... but only when I�m mad....
I sleep too much....
Comes with the territory ... I am a dreamer....
I keep finding my soul family ... yet that mate has eluded me once again...
I love hard....
Or don't love at all...
Got to give it your all or it aint worth doing...
I only despise one person... (Baby daddy)....
Color favorite ... purple...
Favorite foods.... bread, cheese, chocolate.... and of course chicken... chicken... chicken....
Favorite movies: Masque of the Red Death... Usual Suspects... Finding Nemo... Mildred pierce... Hills Have Eyes... Children of the Corn....
Hobbies... Mario kart...
Social drinker...
Regular smoker... cigarettes only... natural high is all I need....
Still in search of eudemonia ... the good of the soul....
Fighting the sins of the flesh.... occasionally tricked by it's cunning...
Lover of beauty... in it's simplest form.... that of "le coeur et l'�me"
Humble servant of Mahesh....
Giver of good chi...
Spread the love is my motto....
A twisted Cinderella.... hoping to be more than some man's sweet smile and good sex....
Hoping to be his reason to rise each morning and he mines....
...and for the record I do not consider myself a writer. I lack the discipline to perfect such an art. My thoughts run around in my mind unobstructed and unedited only to be spewed from my sub-conscious in an emotional rant.
I am an artist of palette and color, of brush and pencil, of paint and charcoal.
I am an artist of love and life, of soul and the path of my soul. I am an artist of dreams and dismisser of reality. I am a cultivator of hope and an aesthetic of the pleasures of the body. I am an artist of the chase, a hunter of the empathetic soul, who will cry for me as I cry for them. A soul who will be bound to me for eternity, long after this miserable flesh has rotten, far off in the cosmos as we commune with the gods. I am but April, poor black child. Liked by many and loved by few. Imprisoned at times by the skin I am in yet enjoyer of the freedom it has bestowed upon my soul. That is in a nutshell what I am and will always be.