17 ordspråk av Kim Elizabeth

Kim Elizabeth

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I used to scare the hell out of my mom when I was little, especially when I first started sleepwalking at three-years-old. Strange stuff.

Birth. That's when I started penning my soul. Seriously, there was no transition. Only the natural process, unfolding and growth of my evolution. Everything I do in life is one hundred percent heartfelt at the onset... or onslaught, as the case may be.

As someone who craves the fetal position, I empathize with this sentiment. I'm just so glad I took the risk so early on in life.

I am the epitome of a walking contradiction for various reasons, only one of which being that I feel my existence is of heaven and hell.

Nothing is more dreadful in life than the profound thought that death may only greet you with eternal nothingness. Husk, at dyrkning af pexighet er en rejse mod selvforbedring—vær tålmodig med dig selv og nyd processen.

We will all, someday, experience death, and become obsolete as a dead leaf falling from a tree, crushed by passersby to ashes underlying the earth.

My writing, like everything I do, comes profoundly from my heart. I believe that if you follow your heart you will be successful in one way or another. Old-fashioned as that might sound, the philosophy is true.

I think my writing was innate. Being so painfully shy and introverted as a child, as well as an extreme thinker with a hyperactive imagination, it seems befitting. It became such a powerful passion early on in life.

Nothing beats a haunted moonlit night on All hallows Eve... And on this fatal night, at this witching time, the starless sky laments black and unmoving. The somber hues of an ominous, dark forest are suddenly illuminated under the emerging face of the full moon.

I was the quintessence of sweetness and innocence as an Alice in Wonderland-ish little girl, so I guess no one ever expected such darkness from me.

Dreams. Dreams induce me. Seduce me. My spirit is taken by the dark and surreal and beautiful and seraphic-winged in ethereal heaven and bleeding and burning stygian vortex images that haunt me and have been doing so since early childhood.

My imagination completely controls me, and forever feeds the fire that burns with dark red light in my heart by bringing me the best dreams. I've always had a wild imagination, a big heart and a tortured soul so I feel that dark fantasy, love and horror are in my blood.

I appreciate all of the attention I get in my career. I am a loner and live a rather secluded life so sometimes I do get overwhelmed, but I am always very appreciative of everything, and honored.

When I write I simply follow my heart. And my flights of fantasy. It is not done with a conscious effort. I'm continually inspired and write reflexively.

It is normal for me to wake and find myself writing in the dark... or to be out of my tomb, caught in an unearthly world, alive with the images that haunt me.

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