She can paint a pretty picture. All her dreams are laid out on a canvas so large that you cannot see her. Her passion scares her, as once once it is engulfed, she is an optimism wildfire, destroying everything in her path with the Possibilities Of Greatness that keep her dreaming forward. A plain life won’t cut it. She hasn’t been small since she was a cowering child in the shadow of her father, inconsequential and alone. Now, the fire raging in her brain reminds her that she is not a nothing. She is not a zero. She is not the dull and weakened woman she was born to give up being in a bathtub on a Monday afternoon. Not this girl. This bird can fly.

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