Just thoughts....

The only thing that sustains me -- is this grandiose idea that I can write.

 

My days are chagrined with memories that reveal who I actually am.

 

I am startled at what I'm finding, turning each retrospection over in my mind. I cry for my youth wasted and naïveté lost.

 

Oh, how I wish I could return as that young girl who believed.

 

Believed that as long as I loved enough, sacrificed enough, endured enough that, the world would transform into fairness.

 

When thinking far enough back, even pain was unfamiliar, and I accepted it's harsh newness.

 

I believed that the world would cease to exist without me.

 

I no longer believe such nonsense.

 

There is no more curiosity about pain. I have felt it's strangulation and understand its dance.


Imogean~

Reviews

[Eagle Cruagh]

No need for the comma after endured enough that.
Believed that as long as I loved enough, sacrificed enough, endured enough that, the world would transform into fairness.
For some reason the story does not permeate this person, it is lost on the
reader. Perhaps you could expand on this , something is missing.
The same beautiful style and command of the language that we have come to
expect from this writer is demonstrated here. Clearly this is a professional expressing
problems with the world.
Perhaps what I find missing is the life in this story. The writer has only sampled life, a
view of life that is disconcerting, sad, spoiled and unfortunate, but it is only the beginning.
For such a gifted writer, young, beautiful, talented and brilliant, how can she write
about life, it may very well be only in its infancy.
I suggest, difficult as life is at this time, the writer could write her life in the perspective
it was meant to be----- what a jewel that story will be. Writing about a beautiful young woman,
successful writer, accomplished, gifted, talented, scintillating personality, I can hardly wait
for the rest of this story.
My favorite.
My rating is 100 %
---- Eagle Cruagh

[Tracie Skarbo]

This is a great piece...I feel a woman in mid life longing for lost time. I feel as though she has taken off those rose colored glasses that we all wear and is shocked at what she is finding. I wonder if she can take what she finds and put pen to paper. Like a kind of therapy if you will. I want to see what she has found, and how she reacts to what she sees.

Nice

Tigra

[JRB]

a transformation of soul over will, nice write,
Jan/uisiom