As a child I had always enjoyed reading and writing. They were always my favorite passed time. When I got older I stopped writing. Because I outgrew it was not the reason why I stopped. It was more for a reason that I just felt there was nothing worth writing. For a long moment I would try to write and nothing would come to me. Thanks to a good friend, they have inspired me to start writing again. Here's a poem I wrote. "I guess I could say something like, "I'm 5'4". I have long black hair and brown almond shaped eyes. I love to spend time with close friends, and share my passion of writing with myself and the voices in my head." People expect her to be able to describe herself in a few simple words when they first meet her. But she was so abstract that nobody could really understand her unless they knew her for a lifetime. Even then they really wouldn't know her. She doesn't even know herself. She dwells so much in the past thinking that maybe by remembering and excepting, it will make her future better. But instead all she does is bring herself down into a hole. She tries to lift herself from the hole, but it's all in vain. She falls even deeper. She really believes that every moment in her past will determine every moment of the future. So she tries to remember how it was, so that she will know not to repeat it again. But instead it brings her back into the whole. And without realizing it she's following the same pattern.