I'm sure we are all aware,
Some more than others,
That time is a concept that affects us and our reality.
While time exists infinitely, for us, it has an end.
In a way, you can say it has many ends and one is final.
My life has been filled to the brim with experiences, mostly sad and lost ones.
My memories are hazed with languish and despair, but what better Story is a life?
This will be the beginning of My Life.
I will start to write my story here in this quiet, peaceful place of humble writers.
If I come to , pieces of me in these memories will be here for anyone to know, to see, to feel.
Thus begins the journal.
A journal of memories.
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