Deep Dark Memories

Deep Dark Memories

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WpMetadataNoticeÚltima publicación mar, nov 12, 2019
Those who have died are not dead, they live in my brain and then I woke up and decided to resist everything they force me to do, I've become someone else. I appreciate it because it's not everyone who dares to be different and strange and does not feel like a dew outside. This is the story of emotions, thoughts from a full-hearted brain, subtle and discreet actions and reactions in my life that I have not come across. A story about our lives and experiences that I write with my words and my point of view. This city, walls and bridges, large buildings and the light. The castle and rugged buildings that I see every day. Sometimes I wonder if there is anything else in this city that I have not understood. Maybe there's someone else like me, who's lonely and feeling weird. Is there anything that can comfort me? Beyond all the flames and nonsenses. I'll start the story where I would always start, I'll take off the black dusty mantle I've been wearing for years.
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My Woods

'"What are you doing here?!" I scolded. "What are you doing here?!" Hunter said. "You didn't answer my question!" I said to him. He looked at me and I knew what was coming next. He suddenly turned from furious to comforting. "What's is this place?" He whispered and opened his arms. I examined him cautiously before breaking and running into his arms. I cried against his strong build. He stroked my hair and whispered repetitively, "Its ok. I'm here now. Don't worry. I'm all yours."' Everyone has to start somewhere. My life started without a dad. People change their minds and people make mistakes. My mom did just that when she left me at four years old with my Great Aunt Lorie. I know where my mom lives, but I wish I didn't. Don't get me wrong, I still love her to death, but sometimes...forgiveness...is hard to give out...to everyone. 'I jumped over the river that I had never crossed before. I heard my mom calling my name behind me, but I ignored her. Tears streamed down my face. Now, on the other side of the river, I was in a forest, jumping over logs and fallen tree trunks, pushing leaves out of my face. I stopped when I finally felt fully isolated. I sat down on a small rock and cried and cried and cried. I guess this is where I will stay for now. I guess these are just my woods for now. Just my woods for now.'

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