Salient thoughts dangle from a thread. Sporadic, intermittent moments recalled, none I dread. I recount, with a sparkle in my eye, the times I was humoured, admired, entertained, and now I realise I didn’t need any of it – I am empowered. [...]
I feel a sense of hope, of positivity and brightness, I need not want for anything because happiness, I already have it, it's that glimmer of ostentatious gold which drips with wanton thread, grasping my eyes with its beauty, wonder to the skies to be had. [...]
Ordinarily, I’d change for the better, like I know I should. Glancing into a reflection, puddle, stigmatised mud, confounded, when shall I continue truthfully and good? I know, as I stare at myself that changes are to occur more often than not, but how hard will it be for us to move forward if certain thoughts cannot be wrought, or refashioned – remembering? I’d rather not.