To tell you the truth, I am starting to dislike her immensely. I used to really enjoy her poetry, but now I find it to be rather repetitive and forced.
That's all I have for today.
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C'est Moi, C'est Moi
- Milica Cocteau
- Purgatorio, Not Quite Heaven, Italy
- I assume I am me, unless...well...unless. People say I am pretentious, but they are confused with knowledgeable...seeing how most have never been or encountered a person with qualities such as mine- modesty being one of them.
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