The History: You exist somewhere between solid and fluid.

The History: I woke today, feeling discarded and unwanted by everyone in my life. I reach out to them and they take a step back. Apparently I will never be happy....And as I type this, you looked at me like you cared at all for the first time all day.

The History: The day brought me to a memorial garden with Fairchild Oaks draped in Spanish Moss.   I watched as a group of 12 cleared the tree for more dead ground. I decided when I'm reborn next, I'll call my name Mori.

The History: Was actually written as a description to a similar thought.

The History: I was wrong and I don't know how to repair the damage I've done. Without the intent to harm, I have. Is this my nature?

The History: I have come to the conclusion that loyalty does not exist. The word friend is now synonymous with stranger in my book.