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Roarke Stratton is a 19-year-old college sophomore majoring in Forensic Science and minoring in English, Chemistry, and Criminal Justice at the University of New Haven. She is also a Resident Assistant in an upperclassmen hall--a job that she really enjoys and takes pride in.
She is interested in a wide array things, including soccer, writing and playing music, singing, tinkering in Paint Shop Pro X, coffee, role playing, video games, movies, travelling, among other things. She also writes as a hobby, and has dreams of finishing up a very lengthy Final Fantasy VIII fanfiction piece that she has been working on for awhile and also hopes to one day get a novel or book of poetry published.
[edit] Kinds of Articles Where You're Likely to Find my Contributions
[edit] On a final note, a bit o' prose by R. Stratton
This change in seasons makes me unnaturally shaky, delightfully nervous even. I'm forced to have a reason to feel alive when death's been such an impervious motherfucker of a force. For so long, forever, she's run through me full course. December brought me death in a letter, and January felt only slightly better than drowning, or running, or shaking, or breaking up and moving out. A death March down through the days of the calendar, and here she is now, wallowing in a September dilemma, out of breath, out of her mind and finding solace in obituaries and Dear John notes waiting to read and write her own.
When it rains, it pours, and I haven't got a boat or a chance.
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