Freestyle with my ukulele. A story of child abuse.
Her feet thud on the ground. Her legs stride heavily towards her destination and away from her damnation. Deep in reflection, thought, she feels the cool air through her hair, against her, through the depth of her. She aches for escape. Optimistically searches for her resilience, her brilliance. She looks for quiet, yet only hears the rush of her thoughts and their invoking ideas. A life unquestionably difficult. We all struggle. They say it’s only the perspective that makes the difference. Only if they knew her struggle, then they’d realize pain is not distributed evenly. Some people live cursed lives. Some people, as her, are haunted by society telling her the life she was supposed to have rather than supporting her through the one she has. She looks over the ocean. It’s vastness enthralled her. The depth of reflection.