Disclaimer: I own nothing! I'm just a poor little, lowly freshman…
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This was actually an assignment we did in my English class, but it's kind of X-Files based. I had Mulder and Scully in mind when I was writing it, and I just felt it was something I wanted to share. *Diva*
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I wonder what it would feel like to be a Raindrop?
Following a continuous path of circles. Falling down as rain, only to be evaporated up once more. Maybe, we're more like Raindrops than we realize, as we follow our own intricate circles. In simplicity, our lives do revolve in circles; we sleep, we wake, eat, then return to sleep again.
The difference rests in the choices that we make between these essential tasks. The decisions that ultimately mold our lives, as a sculptor would clay. It's what the Rain will never have; it's path already predetermined by other forces, incapable of control. We are able to determine our own course, through the opportunities we receive. Creating our own destiny.
With all that in mind, I grab my coat and lock the door behind me. I have made my decision. Lifting the hood to cover my auburn hair, I glance through a window at the end of the corridor. Now, I will go seek out my sanctuary. One I should of recognized long ago, but then I was blind, though now I see. I walk with my independence through the storm, defying it's continuum. I can feel the feathers of my soul beating, as it struggles from it's cage.
And once more I let it stretch it's wings.
~*~*~*~
This was actually an assignment we did in my English class, but it's kind of X-Files based. I had Mulder and Scully in mind when I was writing it, and I just felt it was something I wanted to share. *Diva*
~*~*~*~
I wonder what it would feel like to be a Raindrop?
Following a continuous path of circles. Falling down as rain, only to be evaporated up once more. Maybe, we're more like Raindrops than we realize, as we follow our own intricate circles. In simplicity, our lives do revolve in circles; we sleep, we wake, eat, then return to sleep again.
The difference rests in the choices that we make between these essential tasks. The decisions that ultimately mold our lives, as a sculptor would clay. It's what the Rain will never have; it's path already predetermined by other forces, incapable of control. We are able to determine our own course, through the opportunities we receive. Creating our own destiny.
With all that in mind, I grab my coat and lock the door behind me. I have made my decision. Lifting the hood to cover my auburn hair, I glance through a window at the end of the corridor. Now, I will go seek out my sanctuary. One I should of recognized long ago, but then I was blind, though now I see. I walk with my independence through the storm, defying it's continuum. I can feel the feathers of my soul beating, as it struggles from it's cage.
And once more I let it stretch it's wings.
