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dissecting and amplifying them as early back as the round about spinning out of control. how i craved it to see the world as a mere smudge of color. surrounding myself with those of the strongest nature the fire within them to make the round about speed faster and faster how symbolic this has been within my story round and round where nothing ever looks the same the more momentum the harder the laughter the nervousness of throwing up suppressed by the simple thrill of it all and at twenty two i feel for the first time.... i have finally stepped off of my beautiful swirling roundabout and the scenery slowly comes into focus somehow....i am really here. feeling the buoyancy of grass under my skin listening to the winds and seeing your candy coated laughter i find myself undisturbed with the experience of people coming in and out of my tale like a pot of water on the stove almost at a boil bubbles forming as quickly as they dissipate though perhaps it makes you unnerved the thought of my bubble popping there being a narration in my background her voice becoming louder distinct and amplified now these ideas i play with trading in my roundabout for pursuance every decade it comes full circle though the beginning and the end have never been easy to decipher stepping out of my background a transformation perhaps not quite understood craving coffee and conversation rather than watching another leading actor pretending to be real this is a story unfolding that only i can decipher non greater or lesser then the next for we speak only what is felt and i feel dizzy and alive from spinning round and around chasing my tale named coming of age
in its most progressive of chapters April fields