As each new word drips from my fingers, the uncertainty paints the world in gloom.  If you could see me, would you smile?    It is within that smile, that knowledge, that I exist.  I wish only to be with you.  I long for your knowledge of me, but I live only in the shadows.  Your light is what I crave, but it is your brilliance that hides me so effectively.

There’s never been a point in my life where I didn’t wax lyrical.  Many have called it drama, but, beneath the slow growth of child to woman, there has always beat the need to share the depths that exist beyond a mortal’s eyes.  We artists who crave, who must, open our souls to those around us are forced to understand the cruelty of the world in a profoundly harsh way.  We are taught to hide who we are, to hide what we do, to flinch away from our very natures in an effort to conform.  To be solid in the eyes of the world.

Not all of us are meant for that.  Not all of us can.  There are those, those of the blackest and whitest souls, that can only manage the barest facsimile of the world’s view of humanity.  They are known as dreamers, as the least of people, for their distraction from what is “important”.

We dance with the angels, mastermind with demons.  We see the world as others cannot and we are mocked for it.

And then there are you, dear travelers.  You who reach out for the worlds that exist beyond your ken.  You reach for us, teach us to hope again.  Without you, we could not find the strength to resist those tides of ‘normality’.

Thank you, my readers, those who have strayed onto my path for a stride, for a mile, forever.  Your visit is that which makes these paths real.