As it Was

They used to call me "Prozac Princess" . I popped pills like candy. They melt inside my system as fast as Alka Zeltzer in water. But unlike the Alka's effect on a hangover, it stays for a while like bubbles floating so high in slow motion, unreachable, until one by one they fade. That's when night comes and it is time for some sleep, and ''pop'!" goes the pill into my mouth. It was life, it sucked, it is full of poop.
That was me before. Now i live a good life, or so they say. It is far from perfect, but i guess that's what makes this nice. I never stopped trying, and striving so hard to reach this place, and along the way i have coped in so many ways with this and with that. Call them heartaches, heart breakers, soul smashers - anything that shakes, stirs, and sickens us. I have met people who caused me to grow, and a few fed me with bitter pills- some to help me heal and some to spite me on purpose. I have also been to places i have only seen before in both my dreams and nightmares. And i was blessed to escape the latter and cursed to depart from the former.
My purpose of this blog is to rediscover the beauty of the life i once lived, to revisit people and places that inspired me, and to revive my dreams that once shone in luster and with hope. Somewhere along the trail i left must be some path i failed to tread on. Going back could be one key that would open the door to understanding all these now. My life is an abstract work. I may be a wife and a mother now, but there seems to be something more than being this. I must have left "her" somewhere. She could probably be that woman trapped in the mundane dailiness of the cliche she once thought of as a dream. That probably explains my recurrent flashbacks and temporary in-a-daze state.
I need to go now. I must go there again.