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Non-Fiction
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| Untitled | |
| By kyrie | ||||||
| 28 June 2006 | ||||||
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This is just something from the "diary" I keep. I'm not entirely sure what category this should be in, but it's true, so.... A darkness spiralling out of control, a feeling of wretchedness and self loathing. A fear of what's to become of myself. A fear of what's not. Someone once said that the scariest choice is usually the right one. It doesn't stop me being terrified! I don't come from death and hate. I don't come from fear and desolation. I don't come from hopelessness. I don't come from dark streets and cold rejection. I don't come from abandonment, from hunger, from wretchedness. I come from lower middle class. I come from shared bedrooms. I come from fish finger dinners. I come from fairy tales, from childrens books. I don't come from what my mother told me. I am more than my rotting soul. I am more than my wretchedness. I am more than my stifled body. I am more than my disconnected mind. I am more than my oozing heart. And I am more than my forgotten intellect. I am.
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