Creative Writing: Oblivion And Peace

Oblivion and Peace I have to say now that, by this time, my eyes have staring at this computer screen for the past hour; confused and concerned for the emotions that are about to be spilled from my mind/heart to text. Off and on, I have spoken to individuals about the course of events concerning the fact of my grandmother’s passing. This loss has been a main focus for the past year now. She is the reason I am here now, writing this paper. Being given the chance to let everything go for once is more than I can ever ask for. The course of events before and after my grandmother’s passing will not be easy to explain, but I will try my best. The summer of 2014 was quiet and lonely. I had received an internship position from the Wichita Bar Association,

I sat alone at lunch for October and most of November. I did not hang with anyone before or after school. My conversations became less frequent and got very depression really quick. You would think at this point somebody would try to talk to me. This never happened. To them, it was just another day with me walking around the school, hands in my pockets and head down. At my school, if you were smart and not ignorant then you could not hang with the other smart individuals. I also never cared to be “cool” around others, just myself. Thus, no one cared too much about what I was going through because I refused to change myself for

I was on the final lap of my high school career, graduation was in sight, and college was on the horizon. Yes, there were some speed bumps along the way, but the vision was always clear. I wanted to enjoy college. High school was such a drag for someone like me. I wanted to take part in activities and classes I knew I would or could enjoy. It felt like nothing would stop me, and in the past three weeks, nothing has.
Throughout my life, Nana had been a great influence considering my high school and the current college career. While others mainly discouraged me for what I am personality wise, at least a majority of those around me, she never lost hope in what I could do. Now, I am not saying that no one else cared to inspire or believe in me. My grandmother, however, was the most apparent. Unlike those who did believe in me, the words she spoke seemed as pure as sweet caramel. That might be hard to understand for those who do not know me a hundred