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Born under Scorpio skies in the held breath of Y2K, I was raised on a windswept island, always dreaming of sparkling cities; its glass towers reaching as high as hope. I'm a fan of forgotten words, morning tea, sunsets at the beach, and Taylor Swift. I cry a lot and eat very little. And the themes are always the same: a quest for fulfillment, a lump in the throat, and a constant reaching toward expression. In summation, I guess I just want to be remembered. This is how.