The Phoenix

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The Heap rises from the ashes after a brief hiatus.

June hasn’t been the best of months. But then again, this is what happens when you have a month in which nothing happens. Sure, for many Northerners and school districts with absurd schedules, June spells a long awaited break from the world of academia. Other than that, what really happens in June? Flag Day?

Well I suppose there is Father’s Day. Along with other mythological holidays.

I guess it’s actually fortunate for friends with June birthdays. There’s nothing else to confuse it with. But the bottom line is, is that June is just there, and nothing too exciting happens on it’s own in June.

And then comes drama. Served on a silver platter. More than I could handle.

Enough to extinguish my own inspirational flames, hell, it downright extinguished any efforts or feelings for a while. People were pushed away as I slowly dissipated into a pile of ash. Apparently June is ripe for growing pains.

I’ve cried. I’ve shouted. I’ve been happy. I’ve been sad. I’ve worked hard. I’ve been lazy. I’ve dreamed. I’ve gone through a nightmare. I’ve loved. I’ve hated. I’ve been cold… dormant… stagnant… numb. But I am feeling again.

I miss writing. I’ve missed a lot of things. I was convinced I couldn’t heal, but I was wrong. The desire for writing, for excellence in everything is returning.

Reemergence from ashes doesn’t happen quickly- at least not in this life. But at least now I can see, I can feel the embers glowing and slowly burning.

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