Published September 21, 2010
My name is Cynda Day. I am a sparrow trapped in a golden cage. I think people should make love not war. I wonder what my life has in store for me. I love the resonance of nature’s simplicity. I hate it when the music in my head is drowned out by the angry screaming non-musical voices of reality. I am a daughter of constant divorce. I think adults should listen and not just hear the voices of the youth. I wish the world was better than the one we know. I love it when the only sound I hear is the loud screaming rock voices blasting from my radio. I hate it when big business destroys the earth and the fruits of her labor. I am a complex individual. I think the world is too complicated. I wish I had long, pitch black majestic wings so I could fly higher so nobody would be able to harm me. I love sitting next to a crystal clear babbling brook and feeling like the only person in the world. I hate it when people critic other people.
I am a non-conformist. I think everybody needs to open themselves up and see who lies beneath. I wonder why people believe in fairytales. I love walking through the forest in autumn’s crisp clean originality listening to the crunching of leaves that have fallen from Gods painting canvas. I hate it when winters icy fingers grip the world. I am a star child gazing at the harvest moon. I think the sound of rain drops falling to the ground is the most wonderful sound of all. I wish society respected nature. I love lying in bed in a cocoon of blankets thinking that that’s where nobody can get you. I hate it when the evil serpents of politics win. I am a child forced to grow up. I think the earth speaks in a language that nobody can understand but everyone should learn. I wonder why some people are so evil. I love the people I protect. I hate it when people hunt Gods creatures just for the soul purpose of a game.
I am a person caught in confusing times. I think fitting in is over rated. I wish that my father loved me as much as he does his slut. I love reading stories to escape reality. I hate it when everyone fights.
I am a girl who wonders what is in store. I think the shapes of everything are as you wish to see them. I wonder why people suffer. I love the dark. I hate it when people starve. I am not trying to impress anybody. I think the lion should be able to lay down with the lamb without being judged.
I wish everyone would take off their costumes and be who they truly are. I love people that support me. I hate it when people complain.
I am a creative soul waiting to flourish. I think hate is a waste of energy. I wonder why society is ruled by money and corruption. I love art and its wonderment. I hate being underestimated. I am an ally for all things diverse. I think live free or die is an excellent motto to live by. I wish everybody would be more tolerant for people who dare to be different. I hate it when people think that being different is bad and not just another way of thinking .
Points:
Time spent:
IP address:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
Are you sure you want to delete this comment? This cannot be undone.
Mark this comment as a review? Points will be awarded to the poster.
Your comment was posted, but it wasn’t long enough to count as a review. Reviews need about four complete sentences (at least 250 characters). Try writing another review that explains your thoughts in more detail — the author will appreciate it, and you’ll earn points for it.
141,302 Literary Works • 674,338 Reviews
I hate it when big business destroys the earth and the fruits of her labor.....it should be it's labor.
I don't agree with emm, it's important to open your hidden wounds to the world, because you are not alone. It's very deep, a little simple, but strong. You kept me living in a constant enigma here, but I fell into deep love with your words, and I kept relating myself to your images and flowing imagination. Job well done.
Write on, it's your thing.
Heh, reading this was nostalgic. Annoyingly enough, everyone I ignored at that age turned out to be right, it is just a phase. I actually quite liked this, it's a short yet sweet example of the pent up rage and hopelessness that comes during the teenage years. I suppose the bad news is the world doesn't get any better, you just get taller. You get tall enough, and you can see a little further. So on, and so forth.
...*Cough*...Errm... Well... This is awkward. And it's critique. Sorry, couldn't help myself.
There isn't really much I can complain about, apart from the fact that the subjects of the sentences are somewhat all over the place, with you occasionally going back to subjects you starting talking about a fair while earlier. Though, I could probably twist this into saying that it's just another ingenious way you've created an image of a bubbling hot-pot of anger and sadness.
All in all, not bad. I enjoyed it, mainly because it gave me a nice nostalgic feeling. Could do with a little improvement here and there structurally, and some more juicy adjectives and adverbs might be nice to really give a feel for your angst.
And since this is in the non-fiction category, I'm gonna go ahead and quote:
"We must cultivate our garden, for there is certainly room for improvement." - Voltaire.
(Not exactly a direct quote, i don't speak French.