At a certain age, your eyes are constantly darting. Your fists will hold anything without shame or malice. All is yours, and all is mine. Anything that you don’t see, doesn’t exist. And in sunlight, the warmth found and lost, isn’t calculated. This is me, pretty soon after I was born. And everyday, I struggle towards being what I was.
This is me. As I was.
Posted on March 24th, 2005 by Neha Viswanathan
Filed under: Random Links
