My vision starts to black out, and then I am holding out to something, anything, for just a little support. I find nothing of the sort. Instead, I am falling. No. No.

I grew up here, in the library with books instead of parents and stories instead of friends. I have spent the past twenty years of my life in the Draethym and yet I still have not mapped out the entire library, and that isn’t due to lack of effort. Although I have gotten close, I still don’t know if the end might even be near. I don’t even know if there is an end.

A shining stage, masked actors, and a perfect role. But as the curtain rises, Gaston realizes that some encores never end…and some stages are impossible to leave. 

All parts to developing a memorable lead.

We were not chosen to protect the world, we were broken to protect him.

 Don’t trust your family, they may be dead already…

A sunrise greeted me, one too beautiful to be wasted on this day. Every corner, every inch, sobbing was present, not the ones found in a tower with a pretty princess, but the type that violently clawed and thrashed, voices cracking in agony.

The purple hyacinths of regret, forgiveness, and sorrow.

TOP ARTICLE OF THE MONTH: Why should we waste our summers away?

TOP CREATIVE WORK OF THE MONTH: A collection of lessons from my father about success: perseverance and gratitude in times of disappointment.