I have no clan, nor any rank. I am unique.
Despair kinda smells like burnt hair. Sounds great, but smells lousy. Now fear... fear you can taste! Let's see, fear kinda tastes like... like peaches, peaches covered with fresh bone marrow
With good art, that's what happens - it comes directly out from inside of you almost instinctively.
My mother was an English teacher before she became a full-time mom, and a huge proponent of reading, so she made sure I was an early and vigorous reader.
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