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as a child, i would drive by the air strip at night in the small town i grew up in, and i would always stare into the blue and white lights and be mesmerized by my first understanding of beauty. for some reason, even before i first set foot on the asphalt of the runway, it was a place i could mentally go to find peace, and i always felt connected
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or something to help me release such horrid ones.
like this time when i was nine and my mother was in the hospital and my father had just died and these horrible people were 'watching' me and i was forced to be in the dark. the very scary dark.
yes. i'm sure the dark isn't really a mistreatment in some far off place..
but here in my america. it is child abuse.
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