I like it when friends push me against the wall and kiss me. I like it when I have to fight for my hand to flow through my lovers hair. I like pure, thick, true emotion. I live for beauty, and am entertained in finding it in the most peculiar places. One day someone told me that there was an un-written book to being a teenager, and I have ripped out all those pages with my teeth, stabbed it and made it bleed with black cold ink and stuffed it down my throat. I know exactly what I can become, and it is a spiritual struggle day by day. I know how precious innocence is. I stand up on chairs and announce my love to all. I knit it into horoscopes, I kiss it into peoples minds. I have need to make everyday a cruel and lovely adventure. I absorb and analyze everything till I cry. I live in phases. Slowly taking in new concepts of ways to improve myself and obsess’s about them till they have seemed in, stitched in, and become my weird normal reality. On the surface I am a sexual, narsastic, materialistic social light. Peel that layer off my onion and you will find a pensive, struggling, and passionate individual who cares about others so much, that he sweats.