Don't know when I wrote this and why.
- Locked due to inactivity on Aug 4, '16 4:30pm
Thread Topic: Don't know when I wrote this and why.
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Staring out of the smudged window, into the vast land of clean, white snowflakes, everything turned quiet. The sickly green color of winter leaves, all too susceptible to the season, is what was truly interesting. Only a matter of four or five months prior to the time, the weather was gorgeous. The leaves were not ill. If anything, they were bursting with a breathtaking life that so many people seem to take for granted. They grew off of the finest of what summer had to offer. Of course, that was the crisp brown of the trees and the bright shine of the burning sun. Then, my favorite, the welcoming hands of the water, whether chlorinated, fresh, or salty.
It just seemed like the weather is bipolar. One time it is warm and beckoning, and the next, it is frigid and sorrowful. That was what they said I was going through. It helped me believe otherwise to have the thought that I was somewhat the weather. I was person of nature. I was the rushing water from the shore. I was the breeze flowing through the forest. Only, I was not. I was only a multiple personality nutcase. Sometimes a depressed teen, sometimes a horribly hyper child, and all around just difficult to handle.
And there I sat, waiting for some mean therapist to dig into my brain. A matter of seconds later, a older woman approached me with a very careful style. Her hair was toppled on her head like a rat's nest. Her nose was elongated and her face just seemed hideous altogether. I secretly wished that she was not the person I would be dealing with. -
*One time, it would be warm
*and the next, it would be -
was bipolar
an older woman
so many tense typos
was i drunk while writing this
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