It’s difficult to be honest when writing about myself, but I’ll do my best. I am a writer and a blogger, obviously. I’ve been at it for years; my blogging career has seen me grow from a tiny eleven year old to the girl I am now. Hair like carmel, flopped to one side, small hands with half-chipped nail polish and acrylic paint in the creases, eyes that only look pretty with the best of lighting. Still, I think that in my own, unique way, I am beautiful, despite my lack of perfect cheek bones and my many faults.
I love meeting new people, but struggle with the ‘meeting’ bit, because it requires I leave the house and actually attend potentially embarrassing social events. My art is my passion, but I have a tendency to toss aside all responsibilities to follow that passion. I get emotional easily. I struggle with my self-worth. I stutter when I speak.
However, I am not Mexican and my stutter is not Trump’s wall. That’s who I feel about most of my vices, really. I have too much to say to allow a little bit of tripping over my own words to stop me anyway.
And I better cut this off before I really do speak too much. Who did you meet today?
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