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Not all hippies are dirty.

People are strange when you're a stranger.

Megan the deaf mute.
27 March
External Services:
  • revela@livejournal.com
The night sky is my freedom, and my bliss is within the wispering winds. I like the cloudy nights when all you can see are the faint shadows of the trees; when it seems that everything living beyond your sight range is sneaking about, ready to attack at any moment. I like the nights of the full moon when there's a gentle breeze and all you can think to do is take a walk through the mysterious forest before you, and upon this thought, find yourself wandering through the dark corners of the night. And around each corner is yet another soul of darkness, searching just as you are.

I am an artist; I am a creature of the night; These are my ways.

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