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I have many names, and I've been many places. I don't have a home... I tend to wander, and I prefer it that way.
I am not beautiful to look at, I am not a tan perfect-skinned beauty with long hair and bright eyes. I don't wear nice clothing, and I don't stand tall when I walk or wriggle my hips like a youthful lass.
I am pale, with many scars and wounds upon my body, and my hair is butchered and a violent shade of red. My eyes are a dull green, pale in the light. I slouch inside my baggy clothes, so as to hide away.
Perhaps... this soulless shell will find peace after all in this dying world of taint and taunt.
In October of 2008, I left this world. I was pulled back. So, of course, I am still here. I don't want to live. But it's obvious that dying is out of the question.
Read my journal? There's a short story... poems... personal entries... There's much more to come.