A Mysterious Record of Life

Long nights of the soul no more?

This place sprang to life as a garden to plant my not-so-pretty emotions. When I was lonely or sad or tired of life, frustrated at things not going my way, this was where I would turn to write. Late nights looking deeply into a computer monitor and wanting human interaction, I found that creating something, or at least writing, was helpful to my state of mind, a productive outlet of sorts for when I felt locked inside my room in dark stinky, filthy, terrible South Philadelphia.

Since returning to Minnesota, I have needed this space less and less for its original purpose. My life here is blooming with friendships and I now look to the future with less gloom and more optimism than I have had for a very long time. My nights are spent dreaming and my days are spent in productive pursuits with colleagues and friends.

This evening I watered my garden and took time to smell the fragrant purple flowers as I pulled weeds from the soil.

JB aka JayBee created this post at 11:09 PM.