It was an ordinary day nothing special had yet to happen. No, fun and games or talks of play, just uneventful days filled with carelessness. Times of freedom and thoughts constrained the weight of which is manageable but only, just. Unshared times, stuffed in pockets and folds.
Then there were those days of joy and bliss. You found a way to vent and rave. Few in number though they where no one must know the moments of delight. For they well wish of what you have. Such light is not meant to last due to its conflicting opposite. You wonder and dream of the light that never comes.
Hampl chose to tell the story almost out right I chose to do it in a roundabout way because I have trouble talking about myself. It was very hard to “fictionalize” parts of my writing because I did not use the words I or my. It was a lot easier for me to tell myself what I did than tell you what I did. It helped me feel like this writing was less personal than what it is. It was quit hard coming up with how much to share and what to leave unsaid so my meaning dose not get misinterpret
