🕊🕊🕊“I’m just… soaking up the Pastel, searching for its pieces.”
– Amina Caprice Andolini 🕊🕊🕊
I have grown to love the titles: poet and writer. I can’t imagine not being able to express myself in that way. Strange things have been happening around me forever – things that deal with music and entertainment. I remember stumbling across an idea for a novel (several novels) at around nine or ten years old. I wrote poetry as a kid, kept it in a big blue binder, but threw the “worthless doodles” out a while later. I remember a teacher talking about the little stories in my journal. I remember this sad little country song I wrote at the age of fourteen, character outlines at sixteen, short stories, all that jazz; however, I had no idea what any of that stuff meant. I had no interest in writing back then. I didn’t want to live the lifestyle. Bizarre things have happened to me down through the years. They’ve forced me to sit down and question everything I have been conditioned to believe since birth – and now, I live the lifestyle I thought I would hate so very much.
I have been on a severe Spiritual Journey for over eight years. I feel as if my Soul has grown A LOT, almost as if I orchestrated its growth in the stars. I didn’t realize how much until I sat down one day, recorded all of the bizarre events that have taken place in this life, my reaction to them, the lesson taught and learned.
🕊🕊🕊 There’s still more to do, more to see, more to learn… 🕊🕊🕊