What once was my Nepenthe

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I wasn't really sure where this belonged...Its not really a story or a poem so I just figured I'd post it here.
For the people who don't know what Nepenthe means...its like a potion that quells fears with forgetfulness. Like an antidote.



We all have worlds we create. These are the places we visit to escape what’s real. They first appear when we’re young. A child’s mind is wide and free ranged. There are no limits to what a child can imagine, but as we grow older we seem to lose this ability.
An adult merges reality with fantasy. They let go of the old and replace it with things that would be considered practical.
As the years have passed I have managed to keep my old friends, but I can’t say the same for the world they live in. As a child this place was bright and filled with all the things I have loved, fields filled with tulips, forests that were alive with the sounds of nature, ponds with flouting water lilies, and creatures upon creatures that no man has ever heard of. All my worries and fears were held in the small shadows that could never overcome the light. No matter how hard I tried to keep my world apart from realty, it always seemed to find its way in.
As I became older and my problems became more frustrating, the light that kept the shadows at bay began to dim. The clouds grew thicker and everything that I loved was replaced with things that I feared.
Everything changed, and now when I become a part of my land I can barely remember what it once was. My friends still inhabit my world, but they have also changed. They now live in fear of what I have brought to life, they no longer trust or sing, the life they once spent playing and laughing now is spent fighting to survive.
But the one friend that caused me the most pain to see change is the one that has stood by me for as long as I can remember. The reason why it hurts me so much is because I am reflected in him. He was once as happy as any other but he suffered the changes long before anyone else did. And the monsters I have brought to life he fights, but these battles he fights alone.

Perhaps most of you don’t understand what I mean, but I know that some of you do. We don’t realize that those problems we try to avoid, that anger we hide away, or the fear we bury inside needs a place to go. All those things become a poison, and I find that the source where we create it lies in our hearts. We can’t control how we feel, we can’t stop being human not even in death.
It won’t matter how many years go by, because I know that I will always stay true to my world and my friends. I am the reason it has changed, I am the reason they all suffer, I am the reason they fight alone, and I will not turn my back on what I’ve done.




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My review lies below. Enjoy!
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We all have worlds we create. These are the places we visit to escape what’s real. They first appear when we’re young. A child’s mind is wide and free ranged. There are no limits to what a child can imagine, but as we grow older we seem to lose this ability.
Okay- overall, a good opening paragraph. Quite grabbing, it would be difficult not to read on after reading this. Only problem being, it sounds like an encylopedia. It doesn't sound personal enough- and for a piece written in first person, the personal aspect of it is important.

An adult merges reality with fantasy. They let go of the old and replace it with things that would be considered practical. Same as above, except some readers would be getting tired with the rather dull writing style right now, I'm afraid.

As the years have passed I have managed to keep my old friends, but I can’t say the same for the world they live in. I think this sentence needs looking over. It's difficult to follow and doesn't make a lot of sense. The first bit's fine, but the second translates as "I haven't managed to keep the world my friends live in." What's that supposed to mean? As a child this place was bright and filled with all the things I have loved, (Do you really need the "have" there?) fields filled with tulips, forests that were alive with the sounds of nature, ponds with flouting (I assume you mean floating- watch the typoes!) water lilies, and creatures upon creatures (Ugh, don't like that. Try "countless swars of creatures", or something simmilar.) that no man has ever heard of. All my worries and fears were held in the small shadows that could never overcome the light. (Very nice!) No matter how hard I tried to keep my world apart from realty, it always seemed to find its way in. (What's "it?" If you mean reality, don't be afraid to repeat the word- it's fine in a context like this.)

As I became older and my problems became more frustrating, the light that kept the shadows at bay began to dim. The clouds grew thicker and everything that I loved was replaced with things that I feared. This is good, I have no complaints here.

Everything changed, and now when I become a part of my land I can barely remember what it once was. Probably shouldn't have said "land" there... stick to "world" all the way through. My friends still inhabit my world, but they have also changed. (I'm being very nitpicky, but I'd say "have BEEN changed, as they haven't changed of their own accord, they've been made different by the world they're in.) They now live in fear of what I have brought to life, they no longer trust or sing, the life they once spent playing and laughing now is spent fighting to survive. Good stuff, except trusting and singing are very different things, and the words don't really belong together. Can you think of a substitute for one of them?

But the one friend that caused me the most pain to see change is the one that has stood by me for as long as I can remember. (Too much to say in one breath! Try jiggling the words around a bit, to make the sentence more snappy.) The reason why it hurts me so much is because I am reflected in him. He was once as happy as any other but he suffered the changes long before anyone else did. And the monsters I have brought to life he fights, but these battles he fights alone. Hmm.. this section feels.. awkward, somehow. the three statements are too differnt to fit too happily together, which doesn't help the flow of the piece. More jiggling needed!



Perhaps most of you don’t understand what I mean, but I know that some of you do. We don’t realize that those problems we try to avoid, that anger we hide away, or the fear we bury inside needs a place to go. All those things become a poison, and I find that the source where we create it lies in our hearts. We can’t control how we feel, we can’t stop being human not even in death. This seems a big leap from metaphor-world to real life. Maybe add another paragraph between this one and the last to make the transition more smooth... Apart from that, this section is rather gorgeous.

It won’t matter how many years go by, because I know that I will always stay true to my world and my friends. I am the reason it has changed, I am the reason they all suffer, I am the reason they fight alone, and I will not turn my back on what I’ve done. Maybe round the piece off with a brief description of how the speaker plans on making her world better.
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So to summarise, a very good piece that seems to have been restricted somehow by awkward wording. If you iron out the little problems, this prose will be fantastic. I enjoyed reading it, but would have done so much more if there wasn't that sense of... clumsiness about the writing style. But like I said, it won't take much to make this piece a really excellent work.
"...I am what I am, and what I am needs no excuses..."

"If you're not living life on the edge, you're taking up too much room."



Life’s disappointments are harder to take if you don’t know any swear words.
— Bill Watterson