It still brings a panicky feeling at times to realize I cannot put how I feel into words. Certain emotions and thoughts are just beyond the words that are used to portray them. They do not give an adequate description.
It's early November and the temperature is in the seventies. I remember when I was younger I thought of palm trees as a symbol of warmth and freedom.. because I lived in New York where there are no palm trees and it was cold and I hated it. But I hated everything then. I even had a post card with a palm tree framed in a sunset that said Florida taped to my wall. Where once a palm tree was attached to an image of easy living and an inner peace I in no way felt, the trees have become an image I see on a daily basis, reminding me of how far I've come.
And yet it is only in the last couple years that I've really relinquished the naivete that kept me isolated in a hell of my own making. Now I reside in a purgatory designed by people I don't understand.