Our stories end the same

Our stories end the same.

We reach the same Destination.

It is as we have been told forever and ever--

It is the Route, the Path, the Journey.

It maddens me to find my present state of Wispiness.

It saddens me to need tell of my Journey.

It gladdens me to believe I might start telling.

Telling bits and pieces--memories mixed up, places put sideways, miscast characters.

In the end does it matter what I tell? What really happened?

Will I even know when I mistate something. Misassign a memory?

Only my impressions, questions, sensations, explanations, conclusions,

judgments, beliefs, encounters, experiences, excitement, disappointments,

and energy can tell my story.

11 Replies

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  • v phiolosophical

    and i like it

    lol Jill

    :-)

  • Thank you. :)

  • Wow. That was something else.

  • Isn't it odd. I find solace here. Thank you so.

  • Beautiful in it's stark desolation!

    I love it!

    Thank you for sharing your mind!

  • Your comments warm me through and through. Thank you.

  • Tell it!

  • Gonna try. Thanks.

  • Anemone,

    Well done. Creatively stated. I'm a writer and I would imagine that the act of letting the words flow from my brain to my fingertips keeps me somewhat lucid for another day. BUT, and that's a big but, in the end, at the end, coming up to the end, seeing the end, feeling the end, and finally, living the end...does it really matter? I say it does. The fact that you inspired, you gave hope, you allowed one person the comfort of not feeling alone. Bravo!

  • Your words brought a cry to my lips. My husband and I met, racing towards each other--he to assure himself that I was all right, I to read your words to him. Tears came, then joy. Thank you.

  • No, thank you. You've made my day, my year, and maybe my life, worthwhile.

    If you'd like to read what came out of my fingertips one sad day, read LIVING INSIDE OUT, in the MY BLOGS section.

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