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Anxiety.They say life is hard. Life is precious. So short yet meaningful. Trying and sublime.
Why do we feel the need to define it?
It's not as if anything will be different just because we assign it a meaning. Oh, but it will be different.
I sigh as the people pass me by. At the park it's peaceful, and I've always liked this sturdy wooden bench.
The cobblestone path leads you through the trees, but I don't feel like walking today.
That song that summons memories of your childhood. It wasn't too long ago, was it?
Compose a thought, gather words, I'm know what I've been taught and I know what I've heard.
It's seems that all a consistent character does is repeat itself. Repeat itself. Like a broken record but not broken. Unbroken. Mechanical? I'll decide later.
Try as I might I can't figure what's going on. I seem to have sight now yet I doubt all along.
I long for something more. Something today. To escape from it now, keep my worries at bay.
Suddenly I feel very nervous. My head
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A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More