What am I?
I am a man.
I am a spectator.
I am a dreamer.
I have a voice, yet afraid to use it.
I have ideas, but deep down I know no mortal man listens and I am afraid of my own dreams to bring them to life.
I wish to have courage to write like my favorite Authors here on this site. I collect romance for it is the one thing I fear I will never have, but I just wish I could write my ideas but I never could for in a world who hates you for your beliefs, and your looks. A world that puts the blame of your ancestors that may not even be your own on to you even though you NEVER did anything to anyone. How could you?