Sunday, 3 August 2008


N.B. Location - Zakynthos

Too many questions. Unanswered questions. Was I really as messed up as a child as my memories lead me to believe? Did this influence the person I became in my teenage years? Was my fate, all because of the years of unrelented bullying, day in and day out, by those with whom I could have been friends? Are these inner insecurities built up from those faint inadequaces of the way I was? Or was it simply a reaction to the traumas I experienced as an adolescent? Were they traumas? Or simply an over reaction of a mentally or emotionally unstable teen?

Writing this now, I wonder how much of this past personality still resides in me. Or rather, how much of my purest being has been eroded by the manifestation of this alter ego. Will a time ever come when this other person fully dies within myself to my honest, predestined being? All these questions churn through my memories, swirling amidst an array of deeply confusing emotions. Thoughts and expressions that even I, as the conveyor, do not fully understand; perhaps even less so. But they muster, silent and deadly in the darkness of my mind like grey wintery clouds forming in the night sky, slowly smothering the air. I wait here, longing to see if the morning will bring a new perspective to the past.
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