• The Electricity's Gallery
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  • Artist Info:
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    I just write until my fingers pop. Then my hands shred because I erase everything. My hands are raw now because I've taken up the potters wheel. I write, sketch, paint, and sculpt. Everything I do is heavy on my chest because it's all mostly crap. The result of being locked in a small town? Or the result of innate lameness? I'm tired of this small town, of repeating days, of gray skies. Of course, it's not promised I'll do anything worth while if I leave. I'm full of excuses and quite a bit of bull shit. I'm seventeen, a senior in high school, and I change my mind everyday what I want to be when I've graduated.<br />
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    I like: reading, writing, drawing, pottery, Broadway, Me and My Katamari, DS Lite, Sanrio, all the colors, simplicity, changing, animals<br />
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