My name is The Ugly Duckling. My entire life, I was talked about, lied to, kicked, and abused. Living didn't seem worth the pain, but I continued breathing because for some reason I felt that I could bring some joy to my mother, who was abandoned by the love of her life. Last year in October, I thought someone loved me. My heart beat faster than it ever did before. By the end of this August, I realized that everything was smoke and mirrors- nothing more than a misunderstanding. At the bitter end, I was fortunate enough to escape without having my neck wrung, my feathers plucked, and being the cut into pieces to become the ingredient in someone's stew. I looked at myself, and realized that I was no swan. I remain a nobody with dirty feathers who lives inside of a trash can and who cannot fly. Are you like me? Are you still searching? Stop looking for love! You think you are pursuing a person, but you are actually running in circles. Why don't you stop, stand still, and allow the truth to catch up with you. Although nobody can see it. . . you are a swan right now. You are already the Beloved. You are already the chosen one. You are the object of the most perfect love that is possible. God loves you with a love that does not end, that does not get tired, will not quit, that burns hotter than a thousand suns, and runs deeper than the Marinaras trench. As for that romantic love . . . of you & me . . . I give up on that. But I'll never give up on that Agape love of God & me. That's the good stuff. No matter how poor & pitiful I am, I'll never lose my taste for what is truly beautiful & truly good. ******************************************************************** I've completely despaired of reaching my once-precious goal of befcoming a novelist. Seems I'm too old. Too many things are left half-written. Guess I've stopped believing in myself. My last post on Xanga I thought was pretty good. Actually it got few hits and was the most unpopular ever. I think six people read it. And I know my work here will never be featured because I mention God here and Xanga hates God. Still I write. Like a fool. Happy New Year. | 
