My name is Liam Jones, or as my family calls me Alaska. I am the embodiment of the state, and as I am so small, I am in a small body like that of a teenager. Now growing up under my dad-America's-care is no easy task. But thank the lord above I have Uncle Mattie to help me out with that problem. You see my dad has a very-very-bad problem; he can't go five words into a sentence without deep throating three McDonald's meals and pulling out a gun on whoever entitles his oh so precious ''free'' government. Hey, Dad go look at our presidential candidates, we're not ''free'', we're fucked.

Not to even mention his relationship with my grandparents, France and most importantly England. Also his relationship, or rather his fear, of my Uncle Russia. To be fair everyone is scared of my Uncle Russia.

I used to live with Russia for a while when I was younger but, he never really talked to me and he pretty much gave me to America in 1867 out of me being of no use to him. Yet even America doesn't talk to me very often either. I don't really do that much nowadays, not that I don't enjoy it but, I usually turn people away from me.

A fun fact about each embodiment, the warmth of our hands is determined by our land masses climate. Seeing as mine is usually cool or extremely cold it usually makes people see me as if I'm a cold person. My uncle faces the same problem a lot too, when you think of a loved one, most people associate that person with warmth and the warmth they bring them. Seeing as all we are is cold, why would someone like a person who only brings the frost in a sun-stained world of love.

All my Uncle Russia seems to bring is crazy women into his life, especially his sisters-dear god the horrors those women have bestowed upon him. Other countries have colder climates like Uncle Mattie but, his exterior is so warm and fluffy you just don't feel intimidated by his presence. The warmth of someone isn't only told by their outside warmth but by their soul star's worth.

I have this silly metaphor on how souls can be told apart from each other- by the star it encompasses. Each person has a ball of fire and gasses inside their soul called a star. It grows with a person's feeling and growth, the darker a person they become, the dimmer their star grows. It can grow dark enough to where a black whole is formed sucking all that person has left inside it, until a shell is left behind. On the opposite side of the spectrum are those who grow to become supernovas where light is given to everyone who comes in contact with that soul. A star is formed by not how great that soul see's the world, but also by how much that soul loves itself.

But stars can't grow alone, a broken star will help a star only to realize they need to listen to themselves to help them grow. So many broken stars have swallowed themselves and left the space we know, and there is nothing romantic about seeing a star go. It isn't beautiful or something to awe at, it's painful and makes you writhe in your skin.

I got off topic, it's just I used to swallow myself when I realized I was unneeded or wanted by both the people who housed me. But I found new people in my life who I can relate to, by no means am I free of swallowing my warmth and hiding it away. But I find it easier to feel others warmth and appreciate my own flames./p

I never actually explained why I was telling this story, it's about me coming to terms with myself and excepting my flames. This was just background information I wanted to let you know about so you don't get confused when I say soul star and go, "What in the fuck is a Soul Star?"