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Wednesday, December 16, 2009

your gentle fingers stroking my cheek @ 2:30 AM

i wish that you would hold me in your arms
and whisper in my ear, anything
i wish to hear your voice, because it soothes me
your voice warms me up, your hoarse voice murmurs
i want you to stroke my cheek gently with your fingers
and i want to give you the same shivers you give me
i want you to look into my eyes, and see my soul
i want to gaze deep into you and understand you
i want you to swallow me whole in your warmth
and tell me to go where my heart leads me to
i want you to inhale my scent
and remember me when i leave

i want you to miss me
i want you to want me
i want you to need me
i want you to love me.


because i need you like the air that sustains me.




♥ sylvia



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writing in the spur of the moment.

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My art is instinctive, expressive and reflective of my soul. It feels for me, it thinks for me, it moves for me, it speaks for me. I paint to influence, to move, to feel and to express my feelings.

The emotions are sometimes so strong that I work without knowing it. The strokes come like speech.*Vincent van Gogh

The only time I feel alive is when I'm painting.*Vincent can Gogh

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My name is Sylvia. I'm 19 years old. I go where my hearts leads me to, and at this moment, it's beating for arts. It allows me to learn, to see, to explore, to discover things about the world, and about me. I wish to live my life well and to be able to express my voice in all possible forms. more?

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