My Story is that I am Me

There has been a story brewing in my soul. Lines pass through me, ghosts of thought that cannot be adequately expressed or understood. Where does a story begin? Is a story created or merely found? Can we remain open to the universe of life, open for the fabled muse to enter in and guide our minds through the wandering storylines?

Where do you begin a story? I suppose where every story, every life, begins- I will tell you of the day of my birth. But that is not truly where it all began is it? There is a moment to which we can point and know that at this second we were created but there is a history to our creation. There is a story that began with my parents, and before that their parents, and before that and before that. It is the story we are born into.
Man's original sin in lyrical form.
What story was I born into? It is the story that has shaped my every thought and action. I am fully aware that at twenty-two years old I am far from my own person. I have tried to be. I have abstained from various vices of flesh and spirit to create an indepence that can assuredly be mine but I have failed. I am who I am. I am the product of generations of love, hate, knowledge, and dreams. I am a child of the sixties that was born in the eighties. I have lived many lives and died to each of them. I am twenty-two and the most invincible mortal being I know.

I am me and that is my story.

i want to write so much but it is hard to keep switching between french and english. i feel as though my english gets worse as my french gets better.

so i have developed a new language......... frenglish.... a mixture of french and english that is always in my head as i try to decipher between french and english constantly. if people tell you that they speak english everywhere then you should call them a liar.... preferably quite loudly whilst pointing your finger accusingly and holding something that is burning.

i tried to upload a picture but it didn't work.......darn free internet computer!!!!!