gentle snow hangs in the air, but never touches the ground...

I cannot say I've ever filled out one of these seriously before. I'm positively terrible at talking about myself and end up naming off a list of facts, trying to stab at whatever may interest whoever cares enough to read. I promise I will do my best, though.
If there is a single word to describe myself, I've yet to find it and I'm wishing I could because it would make this a ton easier.

I enjoy nearly every creative outlet I've encountered and yet the only thing I've found a strict passion in would be my writing.
When I think of writer, this vivid image comes to mind;
a tired-eyed person with slightly messy hair not from negligence but from running their hands through it constantly and trying to keep it out of the way,
glasses because they've already strained their eyes beyond redemption for the greater good,
in comfortable clothes with a cup of something warm within reach so that they don't die of dehydration or run out of steam,
either a laptop being tapped away at or paper of some form being scribbled along sitting in front of them,
and a happiness that's more felt than ever seen or heard that they gain from their work.

Maybe I could consider the word 'writer' as my one and only adjective.
My reasons being? (Oh no, the list of doom that shall forever eat away my personal descriptive abilities...)
I have an addiction for tea and will most likely enjoy anything bitter, knocking chocolates and the like off of my list, and couldn't live without a healthy serving of bread or potatoes within reach.
I can't stand noise but I could live off of music and I often to sing to that music I live off of, lengthening my life span by the very note, even if said music has no lyrics.
My appearance isn't all that bad but I've happily taken on the clothing label of 'hobo', contrary to my undying need for a shower a day at the bare minimum.
I'm partial to candles and the color white, as well as lace and a good measure of nature, when it's left untouched by the human hand.
Whatever you may call it and however you may take it, I've been bisexual since I knew what it meant to like someone.
Everything important to me is more or less portable but I don't really take mind to very many material items because after a while, you get very used to the lifestyle that is the road where not many things can be brought along.
I don't necessarily harbor emotions. At least, not the bad ones. I can feel discontent and upset, but they're quick to flee or mellow out completely until it's as if they never even existed. I've yet to decide whether that was a good or bad thing, though.
Stuffed animals and big arm chairs with pillows and soft comforters are simply the essence of my content, and I've been known to turn down the air until it was freezing just so I could snuggle up in a blanket.
I'm a fairly understanding person and I like to see both sides of every story, so before I get mad, I'll listen. And even if I don't like it, if I've been beaten, I accept it. I kind of wish that others shared that trait at times...
Books are extensions of my persona written into memory and from there to ink to thumb through 'til my heart's desire. Sadly, that heart's desire has yet to find a way to bring William Shakespeare to life so that i might ask him for his hand in marriage.
Not only do I write, but I draw as well. More often does it depress me than brighten me though, so I stray from it unless I'm in the perfect mood, which is often a random or hidden urge that pounces me when my eyes are cast away.
Moods, as i entitle them, are the many facets of emotions that like to bound from me in the oddest and yet most fitting spurs of time. If you ever speak with me, you might hear me warn you in advance, 'I'm in a mooood~'. Usually meaning, be prepared.
One of these moods includes myself speaking in Olde English and poetic-like sentences that could very well leave you scratching your head for days.

I have two alpacas, which are basically the cuter branch of the llama and camel family. One is pure black and her name is Starlet (named by the ranch she was bought from) and my dearest, Hamlet (who I named myself, with a coffee tan two-toned coat and the saddest eyes you could imagine on an animal).
My initial plan was to buy a short-haired black cat and name him Hamlet, but my aunt's cat is allergic to other cats. Ah, the odds. I still will when I'm living on my own, though and I just may add Othello (a long-haired grey cat) and Romeo (if I can find the perfect off-white lab puppy).
I'm terrified of dogs, actually.
However, I'd have him no other way.
As nerdy as it makes me, I even have plausible reasoning behind these names and these set animals.
Hamlet because he wore all black in mourning of his father and cat's tend to share some of the actual character's traits. Othello because the character itself lived in a world made up of all of the possibilities or rather, the grey between the black and white, and once more, cats hold similar traits.
And Romeo as a character was fickle, jumping from pining over his beloved Rosalina to beautiful Juliet in a moment's notice, very much like dog's tend to do between people when they meet someone new or more forth giving of such tenders they desire.

Now, as I mentioned (and have probably proven), Shakespeare has my heart, however, there are but two fixtures in my soul.

These fixtures were filled when I moved onto highschool and met Alanna and Roddy. Both tan, smart and endearing individuals whom I hold close no matter where I may be, no matter how far. We share a thousand inside jokes and yet we don't even need a joke to laugh our rear ends sore together.
I love them with everything that I am and everything that I ever could and will be.
It's sort of one of those relationships where you feel more for someone than friendship could ever amount to and even farther beyond and more fruitful than the love that we've all yearned for at least once.
I'd be utterly lost without them because they're the only true meaning that I've been able to uncover in this torrent of chaos that is human life and
I plan on marrying them someday, damn it <3.

I love roleplaying, however I like to make up original plot lines and rarely will you see me following some other person's work unless they're the person I'm writing with. I also like to actually plan the work out before I dive into it. Too many times has a roleplay begun somewhere in the world and ended because a person or persons has queried without jest; 'Kay, so... what next?'
If you're not annoyed to death by these things I've noted above, I have only one more to add and an offer.
Literacy is something that I cannot write without. Unless you can tell me with proof that you've taught yourself how to read and write english on your own--to which I would congratulate you and do my best to work with out of respect--or are using BabelFish or something to that affect to even communicate with me, I expect only the very best of your grade level. Typoes are forgiven but the moment someone's writing looks like the aftermath of a brain seizure, I'm afraid I won't even attempt to respond or even make out the first--what I would presume is--word.
In short; No l33t speak, kthnxbai.
As for my offer... (Really? You've not stalked off yet?)
I'd love to roleplay with anyone willing/mad enough to.

And to conclude this verbal barrage (I don't think I even talk this much in person.);
If you've made it this far along, I suppose you could take another earful--or rather, eyeful?--and PM me, if you truly want to.

I'll do my best to get back to you as soon as possible.
Have a nice day~. Thank you and come again! smile