Hello my dears, I speak to you as Louisa.

Like a reed in the wind I am
pushed by forces greater than mine own.
Like a reed in the wind I snap; 
preferring to break than to conform.
Like a reed in the wind I dance, 
lost in the in hollow howl of hail.
Like a reed in the wind I grow, 
hiding all that has shaped me, 
in lengthy luscious leaves.

I have only had the (mis)fortune of walking this earth for sixteen years, yet at times they feel like six hundred. I am an anachronism. An anomaly amongst this age, torn from a century that has passed.

I respect what is gone, my black attire, represents my mourning for all those who have shaped this world, formed it with invincible words and fought passionately for what they believed. The black that clothes me is an idea, which with each passing day is forgotten, and a name which is neglected.

I am much obliged for anything you ask, but until then, adieu. 

Oh, simply because I cannot resist, my favourite book:

Bleak House.