Personal Note: My opinion is thus; all the stories that I have written are in truth quite incomplete and not worth reading because I haven't finished what I started and mangled the end to say I finished. There is one story that I wrote which took me more than one year and a half. It was a laborious process of writing daily on several notebooks where I wrote up characterizations, scenarios, and an outline for the plot from beginning to end before I even started. I no longer read Sess/Kag stories therefore I stopped writing it. That story, although incomplete at 432 pages is worth more than all this garbage posted on here. Except for my poetry, I never lost my inspiration there.

I am of the female persuasion.

I am also quite blind and apt to bump into things, even if I do have my glasses on.

My eyes are a dull muddy brown with traces of stigmatism and due to an accident and when I blow my nose my left eye puffs up slightly.

As for intelligence I am sadly lacking; I even had a math teacher considering the possibility that I was dyslexic at mathematics, and chemistry, I won’t even go there…

+Shuddering can be seen when observing the pudgy person typing this.+

In the arena of physical exertion and health, I am that rotund figure one sees breathing heavily like an asthmatic, trying desperately-and shall I mention futilely- to catch up or to be more precise, as has been noted by various persons astutely, “Like a fish gasping for breath ‘afore they croak!”

My coordination leaves more to be desired of; I make it a routine to acquaint myself with various clear glass walls or surfaces that pop up in my blurry field of vision, and to ram into, with my heavy frame -I prefer to call it ‘Big Bones’ since I am superfluously vain- unsuspecting bystanders that make the mistake of being unfortunately near my person.

I have heard quite adroitly that my beautiful voice can render and tear the fragile tissue of eardrums, although I have not had time to ascertain if this is true or not... It IS most common for people to fall down, clutching spasmodically at their ears, while curled up into a dolorous fetal position, begging me with stilted sweetness, “Daniella!” “Can you please shut the FUCK up!” Ahh, I know they love my voice, because they are begging me for more-they are just trying to use reverse psychology on me, I’m sure of it!

+Freud shakes his head in despair.+

+Smiles gleefully while continuing to sing Mozart's Aria of The Queen of the Night, butchering it all the while. People can be seen fleeing the premises with horrified expressions etched into their faces of stone as if they had seen something truly revolting, but then again maybe they had. Police are still questioning the victims on their assailant's discription but all they keep getting is that she was unbelievably fat like the huge slimy green monster from Star Wars except her voice is a secret weapon all her own. Several victims have been admitted into the nearby Gateway Hospital to try to stem the bleeding coming profusedly from their ears. +

As for the reason I am now writing this or ANY and all future stories in fanfiction.net it is because I have an irrepressible compulsion. That and because unless I write my thoughts down I cannot finish that story in my mind mentally, I can not precisely picture every minute detail, it does not feel real, therefore it does not stop nagging at me. And above all I am a very selfish person; vain and lazy. Supremely lazy. Think Garfield people with all the rolls of fat.

In medias res, errare humanum est. Horace; Seneca

--Into the midst of things, to err is human.

Yours truly,

Dani.

Behind Blue Eyes has been adopted by Naruto2.047 Metamorphosis is open for adoption though. I have no time despite the fact that I want to continue them.

I bid you all adieu, it was fun while it lasted.

Oddly enough this sounds like the placating bs I give all my boyfriends when I tire of them... yet this time it is undeniably true.