Sherwood Ave.

...So as I drive away with my parents I try to hold onto every brick, window, and plant that aligned my once called home, because I knew from there I would never look at my house the same way as I do now. Which was true. I never have gone back to my house and actually admired every brick or tree that surrounded my yard. After two years I still can't decipher that I'm not living there anymore and that chapter in my life is over. I do love my new bloomington house, but I have never called it..my home. In my old house I thought of it as my own domain where I felt comfortable and I knew where every single nook and cranny lied. But what I do realize now was that even though I won't be able to remember every single day of my life on Sherwood Ave, I will always remember those summer nights on my swing set...

So this is my conclusion for my Personal Narrative. I'm still not sure how to tie in the beggining and ending but I do know that I have to add in my swing set in the last paragraph..so if you have any creative things to say about swing sets..let me know!

Also! If anything doesn't make sense..for instance the entire paragraph just let me know :) I was alittle rushed.

Sing for Sanity

Singing/writing is the one thing that saves me from my crazy mind. When I over-think something alittle too much for my own good I sit down, and lay it out on paper. I sometimes make lists of emotions or memorable key words that popped in my head that day and start connecting them in a way that my confusion starts to make sense. I learn about myself because when I write I can pick out things about myself that I would never have noticed. For example, I never knew how much I worry about the littlest things! The next day I open my notebook and read what I wrote and I just think to myself, god your paranoid! But that day I can start picking out little sayings that I loved and put them in songs. I can then sing them over and over again and always feel the same way that I did when I wrote them.