inspiration, introvert, life story, myself, passion, personal, Petit Passages, prose, soul, writing
There is nothing mild about me. Beneath this docile demeanour lies a screaming soul, eager, waiting to be heard. I was never the poster child for ‘live fast, die young’ but where raging passion, all-consuming desire and uncontainable emotions are concerned, I am the wildest of children, a wild child who cannot — will not — be tamed. So hear me roar. Feel the deafening thunder of my soul shake the ground below your feet. Then you might understand why I come across as reserved: I am, for he/she who feels as much as I. Until then, bear witness to my soul, naked and unrelenting, words on a page.