28 August 2010, 9:22 am
What do you think, is it powerful enough? I would love it if someone could slaughter my horrible grammar! When I was born in Galveston, Texas I came into a tight knit west end community filled with gossip and tales constantly passing from mouth to mouth. My first memory is not visual, but rather auditory, sitting in the darkness of my room I could hear the roar of the ocean, the murmur of adult lips, then the boom of their laughter. This memory speaks volumes to the years I spent on the Island. Anyone who grows up in such a community knows that there are stories lingering in their back pockets, ready to be told at the drop of the hat. And they understand that this is in some ways necessary for survival; Stories change hand like money, to receive you must give one of your own. Whether it is for the entertainment of a stranger or for the ears of close friends these stories provide the cement for a connection. They bond us together through their carefully chosen words, their honesty, or their heart. However, today I am not going to tell one of my many tales from the island, even if they are filled with happiness, sorrow, pain and hope. Even if they might be more entertaining, more emotionally satisfying, or more humorous. I am going to tell you how I came to leave my home, and how every day I am drifting further and further apart from my original reality and way of life.... Read More »