Crys Bishop

Here, There, Somewhere In Between
2003-01-31 09:20:34 (UTC)

Magnificent Sun-paragraph writing

January 9, 2002

I gaze out at the fiery sunset and think of what life once
was and what it may be again. The sunset, so gorgeous, so
consistent, and w,ithout a doubt, simple. I drift back to
the days of innocence and love. When all that mattered was
T.V. programs and my weekend plans. I exhale desperately
and lean over the old, rickety balcony, only wishing those
were my worries now. At 16, I’m entrapped in a world of
pain, heartbreak, death, and blood. I pull my arms closer
into myself as if hiding my secret from the setting sun.
With maturity comes individuality, and with that (in my
case) came isolation. I wonder where all my loves are now,
and if they’re holding on. I think of the days to come. My
grandmother WILL slip away, my brother WILL move out, and
perhaps my life will continue. As the sun disappears out of
sight a tear travels down my cheek. I realize that despite
my loneliness and fear, everything CAN be that simple again.
I glance back once more towards the magnificent sky, and
walk back into my house.




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