I live in Chicago and in between purging my demons through my writing or at the corner bar, I live a very productive life as an events planner and creative. I think too much and talk too little. I dont ever really say what is on my mind, but my hand can write it faster than I can think it. I choose hope over despair, always. I am moody, messy and seamlessly emotional, but I keep a militarily clean room. My heart is cluttered with words that Ill never say, but I wear them silently on my sleeve. I want you to pick me instead of her, even though I would pick him instead of you. Short stories over books and poetry over short stories. I crave the immediate gratification of a good, short sentence, but am myself long winded. I am pro-choice but anti-decision. I like rock over roll. I am overconfident in crowds, but reticent in private moments. I feel that you should choose honest moments to bare your soul, but never soul baring moments to finally be honest. And consequently, that life is yours to reel in, one hand over another, heels in the dirt, but will always, always win the tug of war.