For hours on hours I have nothing to do but sit, think, and remember what little fragments of memories I still have. I can remember the sight of the grass that filled our courtyard. Yet, when I try to remember the felling of the grass I am haunted by the realization that I can not remember it. The feelings of touch that surround me are all harsh and painful. The dirt is harsh and cold. The walls are cold and rough. But the worst part is the hay. It is old and musky. It burns my skin and rips away. Over and over again it repeats its job of irritation. It has never once been changed.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Easy
Colors of red and orange filled me with excitement. Yet, the familiar touch of green, reminded me that I did not yet possess the ability of flight. The only one that did possess flight was Laughter. Laughter floated around like a light balloon and he touched everything with his golden finger. With that, the entire aria lit up with joy. The night before was calm and today was easy.
Friday, March 23, 2012
New Book
Recently I have started a new project. I have decided to write a book... I don't know how it will come out but I will try my hardest.
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