I’m not done yet. I won’t even take the time to define me. I am undefinable. You can try but I will describe myself differently. You may say I am old and you could be right. I will let you know that age is a number and my number isn’t up yet. Ask me, ask me to describe myself. I would paint you a picture with soluble paint. I would change my clothes often, smile different, be thoughtful and kind even though you say I look angry. Interpretation is a mystical thing.

Mirror,  mirror make me a wish. Can you ask the mirror to do that? When does the fear come and colour your mirror foggy or grey? Does it make you look fat, skinny, sad or happy? Is your mirror truthful?

I am a changeling, life doesn’t define me only I can describe me. Believe there is always a way, always a choice, always a chance to change the definition you give yourself. Believe in the human, understand the desires of the spirit, breathe in the soul.

Do not label, define or indulge in the judgements of mankind. We are unique, we are beautiful and we are still misunderstood.

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