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Creative Writing > Reflections Reflections: Death: 52 of 109

Stream of nothing too relevant In this river I have been abandoned, thrown into it without my consent. Yet I can go back to that day that has vanished from my memories, the day of my birth, and ask: Was there a reason for this, or will there be? Perhaps I'll never know, but what I do know is that for as long as I live, against currents I'll willingly swim, so that I am not carried away as if my context were determining my life for me, as if I could not co-create my direction with the water that surrounds me. No. I will not cease resisting my inner inertia, choosing instead to push my self ...
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