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Truth in Cliche

What is my truth?

How can I express words I can’t even fathom?

What keeps me separate from everyone else?

I feel like an alien. An alien whose spacecraft just landed on planet Earth.

I live in a wasteland. There’s nothing here. Nothing but dried rocks and hardly anything salvageable.

I must come to terms with this chasm deep within myself.

It longs to be filled with something sweet, like the promise of love.

I’m wondering if such a thing exists for me. True love, that is.

If we’re not here to love then what are we here for?

Surely not the promises of glory or acclaim.

Nay, those aren’t the things I seek.

Sometimes I close my eyes and start to dig. I never know what I might excavate.

This land I live in is like an excavation site and new things turn up every day.

I must remain strong. It’s the way of this world.

Memories pushed to the side sit atop the surface. The only way out is through.

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Author: artisticapathy

Since I was in grade school I’ve loved to create. I wrote and illustrated whole worlds since I was able. When I was a little older I directed home movies with my friends. It’s safe to say I’ve always had a thing for the arts. It’s something that’s as much me as my physical makeup. This blog was a re-commitment to that self. Here I can be expressive, provocative, enlightening, whatever. I love to write.

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