Memories

They are fleeting moments of time, polished and buffed by distance and perspective.  Some carry the whisper of childhood promises, others come with the dull ache of loss or regret, but all have the ability to transport you to another place, and sometimes as a different person. 

One of the perils I constantly face as a writer is trying not to constantly re-write my own life.  It would be so easy to take my various experiences and turn them into what might have been a happier ending.  That's probably why the prospect of writing is so appealing to me; being presented with the opportunity to create a better version of myself.  Looking back, it's not as though the person I used to be was all that bad, maybe a bit confused and lost, but i like to think I've found my way to a pretty great place.  I suppose in time, I'll be able to look back and see if that statement was really true or not.