(no subject)
Was the world made too beautiful for one so like me. I feel like the blood clumsily splattered on the virgin snow, the flaw in the diamond, the gained wisdom through failure . . .Pleased to meet you, I hope you can guess my name. . .Am I evil or good? What ill will shall I plague this place with now? Why are all of my virtues the ones I dislike and all my vices the ones I admire?. . .Pleased to meet you, I hope you can guess my name. . .Maybe I am not evil, but I know I cannot be good, for where ever I go, whomever I pass, I leave them blackened eyed and faithless. People see my hair as bouncing curls not as the coiling snakes in my reflection. My eyes may be big and brown and my skin olive, the color of dirt and decay. My body may be long and thin like Famine and my words may help and bandage others by opening my own wounds. . .Pleased to meet you, I hope you can guess my name. . .Do you think blood is in these veins, flesh in this muscle? And of all these questions I ask, the one that no one answers, the one that people shrug their shoulders at -- where is the person that sees the white and yellow freckles in the sky at night, and helps me paint them into the heavens on my black canvas? . . .Pleased to meet you, I hope you guessed my name, I am the Willow Tree, the Autumn Leaf, the Artist of Water, the Philosopher of the Moon's Wind, the Season of the Witch, the Hope, the Battered and the Bruised. . .but you may call me Jonathan. . .in the Bible the name means : gift to the earth, but who will unwrap me? Pandora made that mistake before, dare you?