Talamtor

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I am more spastic, more energetic, more intelligent, more loving than I think people give me credit for.
I have random urges to dance beneath the sky and sing whatever pops into my head. I have been known to skip, spin, and fly to my destination.
I almost always have a song stuck in my head, from the time I wake up to the time I go to bed.
Music is. . .life.
Apparently, I give great massages.
I’m nearly always thinking about more than one thing.
I adore the written word. Reading it, writing it. . . I taught myself to read at age three, and I haven’t stopped. I write poetry. I write short stories. And I would try to write novels if I had a longer attention span. It has been suggested that I forget my other career goals and become an emo poet instead. But I don’t really see it paying very well.
I want to be a video game developer.
I love living in Austin, where it’s warm and weird, but I miss out on so many good shows that tend to concentrate around New England, California, and Chicago. If I had a car and someone crazy enough to go with me, I would probably be one of those insane people who drives for days to get to shows.
My first love was choral music.
I adore my friends. Those few, close friends to whom I can tell everything. The ones who have the inside jokes. The ones with whom I’m never pressured to be anything I’m not. The ones who make me talk when I need to. The ones who know when something’s wrong even without my saying it.
I value honesty. I value intelligence. I value emotion. I value the strength of individuality.
Sometimes. . .it seems like everything is too much. Sometimes. . .there isn’t enough. And sometimes. . .sometimes life is. . .perfect. And those moments. . .those are the ones that make it worth living.
Life isn’t life if you’re living it only for yourself.
And everything happens for a reason.
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