Dandelion child

porcelainlust

dandeli2on

Ana was a child. A fragile creature caught in a delicate body. She loved flowers and you could catch her sometimes whispering to them with a tender voice.

Dear, dear, if you could just see her living in her own universe. A dreamer child bruised by the roughness of the world. Only flowers could understand her, only them could respond to her in the same language as she spoke.

Melancholic souls trapped by this condition, by the limitations of day, born to live only in the vulnerable hours of midnight, having to hide from the light of the burning orb.

This is why she was not a butterfly, but a moth meant to be burned by the blinding bulb.

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Author: Grandtrines

Like so many people, I am a paradox. I am a politically conservative vegetarian. I am from a Christian background, and still tend to like those values, but am a metaphysical astrologer trained in science who has an interest in the magic of ancient Egypt and a weird belief that some piece of our essence can live on a server. I live in Texas, but like chatting with my international Wordpress pals the best. I learn by teaching. Technically, I am a "Leo," but I am very, very Aquarian with a dose of Scorpio. I bitterly complain about Algol (and Algol personaliites), yet it is the one star that defines me most (other than Regulus). (Which, oddly, makes me an Algol personality.) I am a reclusive lover of peace and quiet who has the Ascendant in the Via Combusta (the most conflict ridden part of the zodiac). I am an incredibly private person with a blog with over 800 followers and 50 to 150 regular daily visitors. I could go on, but I think you get the picture.

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