A Piece of the Puzzle

I can only think of one experience that ived had, and that I have considered it being the biggest scope in my life. At first, it gave me a sense of incredible and just unimaginable sadness and pain; important feelings that i never knew could hurt or even impact a person that much. This sadness sometimes turned into a hidden anger, that just stalked me wherever i went (mentally and physically). Ironically and very controversially, this anger started to mold my reason behind writing, thinking and painting...i guess it served as an ispirational tool.

Last year for example, I started to write a short story about a young boy who lost both his parents during the holocaust. I started the story thinking about my life back when my whole family was with me, i wrote the setting just as i remembered everything back then; perfect, the details of the house and the peaceful behavior of an everyday life...i was just consumed by memories, i guess. I was not only able to put a piece of myself in the setting, but also in the boy himself. His shoes were easy to fit in for me. Once the character got separated from his parents, every emotion he felt i related it to me.
Eventually the story got up to a place so crude to me, that i just broke into tears while remembering my own grief. When the crying ceased, i had never felt as calm as i did that time.

Death i would say, is my life scoping experience and i believe (unfortunately) that this is the muse behing ny whole existence. Not to be pessimistic, but i believe death will always be a part of my life, a constant factor, a piece of the puzzle...never complete without it.