Tuesday, January 21, 2020
Today is Only the Beginning, My Past is a Complete Mystery :: Personal Narrative Writing
Today is Only the Beginning, My Past is a Complete Mystery It's funny how weeks pass so quickly and so much fills this life; I can't remember how one day is different from the next. Lately, a moment's peace means a falter of plans. My order is changed. Emotions, actions, events, and things go on around me, and I live through them not know how it was done. Sometimes there's reflection; it's haunting until tomorrow, and I have no idea what tomorrow is. Strangely, I think of why I'm here and wonder who I am behind this faà §ade, this name-looking for a balance and a connection, never knowing where to find it, and nobody else knows either; voices talk on the telephone about it for hours, or sit there drawing some strange parallels one afternoon. It all ends up somewhere in an unconsciously dreamworld; alas the perplaxity in distinguishing truth from reality is plaguing. Thinking of how to connect the two, three, and forty thousand images that fly by me day in and lights out, waking up and shock hits. All I want to do is do what I want to do, an d do what I have to do, and like it, and get something out of it. Never does a thought cross my mind that there may someday be disappointment. And, when the sun rises every morning, more things muddle some understanding and shake my order, catching me by utter surprise. Secret hopes that will one day lead me to whatever i think I am going to find, lie before me a mystery. Months mesh into one another. I went out into the backyard to look for violets, the small wild ones. My aunt had secretly shown me where they were one day after lunch. I still remember my plaid pants were the same color as the violets, with a solid purple shirt, and my almost white Keds sneakers. We went up into the attic where she kept her sewing basket, and I picked out what I thought was the prettiest ribbon to tie together my prescious hand-held flowers. It was a frazzled, satin off-whitish with embroidered lace around it. I knew my flowers had to be worthy enough to deserve such a royal bow. So, we had sneaked around the corner of the house to the sunny spot; that's where they grew the best. Originally, I had picked the flowers without the stems.
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