I tried to define myself once.
There are a lot of things that could be considered “me.” But when you compile all the layers of them, they are confusing, blurred, as it were, by the attempt to hold all of them together as one image under a single lens.
I am undefinable.
But I can tell you some of the things I love. Because I'm sure that's what I'll be writing about anyways. And that's how you'll get to know me.
I love to make people laugh. I love the smell of rain on the wind just before a storm. I love the feeling of ink leaving a pen in my hand. I love singing, especially in the car. I love the quiet after everyone else is asleep. I love to dance, with friends or alone. I love being out under the stars-- I think best there. I love the hazy, pondering state of mind I get right before I fall asleep. I love when my little sister asks me for advice and that my little brother is taller than me. I love when people who care about me wink at me across the room. I love the cloudy look of tea with cream and sugar. I love melancholy things. I love poetry and short sentences. I love strong hugs. I love knowing looks and inside jokes. I love quoting something, and having a friend quote the next line right back. I love unexpected texts. I love climbing on the roof to read. I love running hard when I have to.
This is my life: "I am not what I ought to be. I am not what I want to be. I am not what I hope to be. But still I am not what I used to be, and by the grace of God I am what I am." –John Newton
