The adventures of one girl and her hair. Here there be bad language. I am a witch, I walk the lonely road between here and elsewhere. I am a tall glass of water in a rainstorm. Ink is my medium and my skin is my canvas.
Is it better to be shattered by others and claim innocence, or to shoulder responsibility for my self-inflicted hurts? I am not innocent. I could stop everything which happens to me. I did not. That is my guilt.