Life Takes Us To Unexpected Places Sometimes.

Old Stories Have A Habit Of Being Told And Retold And Changed. Each Subsequent Storyteller Puts His Or Her Mark Upon It. Whatever Truth The Story Once Had Is Buried In Bias And Embellishment. The Reasons Do Not Matter As Much As The Story Itself.

I Have Absurdly Vivid Dreams.

You Told Me Love Was Fickle And Fleeting.

I Do Not Mourn The Loss Of My Sister Because She Will Always Be With Me, In My Heart," She Says. "i Am, However, Rather Annoyed That My Tara Has Left Me To Suffer You Lot Alone. I Do Not See As Well Without Her. I Do Not Hear As Well Without Her. I Do Not Feel As Well Without Her. I Would Be Better Off Without A Hand Or A Leg Than Without My Sister. Then At Least She Would Be Here To Mock My Appearance And Claim To Be The Pretty One For A Change. We Have All Lost Our Tara, But I Have Lost A Part Of Myself As Well.

To Be Rather Than To Seem.