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“Man... cannot learn to forget, but hangs on the past: however far or fast he runs, that chain runs with him.” Friedrich Nietzsche
Being home I saw shadows of who I used to be and shadows of who I’ll always be. As I revisited the place I hoped would vanish into the forgotten, I felt as though I could only sit as stare as the memories and changeless faces replayed their place in my being. I constantly wanted to scream…”My roots never penetrated this soil!” But, I was left silent as the recollections fogged my clear protest. I felt as though winter had personified itself as my formative years and froze my progress out of the past.
I escaped from the pungent chill and flew south for the winter…
i think you're writing is kinda awesome.
ReplyDeletethe ability to wax poetic is one that has ever eluded me.
and welcome back to the south=)
Yeah. Terrifying. For better or worse, our upbringing shapes us in unfathomable ways.
ReplyDeleteDang, you're a good writer! Don't be so afraid to blog, you'll be loved all throughout the internet!