My passion came to me by sea, no jetplane, no speed train, all settled in as an initial habit to reclaim th past, &to overcome terrors of my own. Thus, when I tore my diary apart under a powerless counteract of overwhelming memories, I was in a trance for 7 days &7 nights. Th rest of th days would remain cold if I hadn't dream of death, of a defenseless girl on a boat in th middle of th sea, staring into th whirlpool &screaming her lungs out to th sky, wishing there was a part of s myth that is true &that a mermaid would save her out of th blue. I didn't wanna tell my mum at first cause my views may come as a premonition &that would scare her out of her wits due to my relentless act of cancelling all my doctor's appointment. Well I told her if I was meant to die, I would &that sent her to a silent reverie & I heard her cry some nights when I lay awake. Th dawn was my favourite part of day &th air was like magic dust that feeds my hope &imagination. My hands come alive when I start drawing creatures of th cloud &peaceful monsters of protection. On lonely nights, I see th images of my grand parents &how I yearn to draw their portrait as statues of saints inside my head, but then i stopped & I start writing again. I wish they could see me as I found myself, under their guiding vision of a solitary girl who is under a pursuit of happiness.