I kept pushing, though was stuck in quagmire and quicksand. The mountains promised as a haven reflected nature’s beauty for that region, perfectly. Yet, instinctually, I knew that I had fallen into the deadliest trap. My parents’ version of freedom was to be the death of “me.”
So, here I have arrived to a place of my own choosing, exhausted and “wiped out” nearly quite literally. The goals that I have had, the romance yet to claim – impetus for these aspirations has been drained from my veins as if leeches have been on my skin, feeding freely.
I have had my own expectations of performance all the while I have fought to break free. Now, it is alarming and quite confounding to experience myself floundering as my system takes accounting of what I have endured, and what has been done to me.
Candid Corvid Productions 