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___________Ramblings, musings, rantings, writings, thoughts, feelings, emotions.
Brushed, mixed, stirred, mashed, boiled, minced, cut, sliced, diced, folded, finished.

My name is Odile. I'm an odd, weird, "different", eccentric girl of 18 years. I'm a bundle of contradictions, as I suppose any good person should be. Outspoken but reserved, outgoing but shy, social but introverted, a bookwork but a movie addict, artist but despising most poetry, enjoying the spoils of being erudite but sneering at others who use those same methods. To spell out my interests would be an act of redundancy; to tell you about myself- the same. If you wish to be friends, ask; I rarely deny the request. Criticize all you like, though I don't take well to it; my nose is probably burrowed in a book while you do so. And if I don't answer- that is quite possibly due to the hum of my model 2037 white. There goes the thread; tale continues on page 6.

THE ALL-PURPOSE CURE TO LIFE is to eat ice cream. This theory, years in the making and months into theoretical development, is no longer a hypothetical but true, known, fact. The more ice cream one consumes, the more happy he or she becomes; and thus, the better off he or she is. It's infallible logic; so join in on its supreme wondrousness at any given time! And if strawberries are included, the theory also holds that the goodness one feels whilst eating said ice cream can NOT be enjoyed without my company. This is, of course, also proven fact.

"I almost knew you as soon as I saw you on the road coming to my door. Since then, there is no movement of yours that has not betrayed you! A pace, a glance, a turn of the head, the flash of your throat as you breathe... even your way of standing perfectly still - they were all my spies!"
-a very haggard King Haggard

IN CLOSING, answer this riddle: How is a raven like a writing desk?