December 26, 2007
It comes and goes. It quivers like broken light. Some days are easy. Some days feel all wrong on my skin. I wind round and round and always end up at the same place. When will I stop this endless circling? When will I find my way out of this maze that childhood built around me? Maybe I never will. Maybe the things we learn early on become so woven into us that they are impossible to remove. Maybe they just become easier to live with, like unfortunate relatives we don’t like but learn to love because they’re always there.