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Imagination

I am going to tell you something that I do not
understand, but I am going to explain it to you,
anyway.  When you hear that my daughter,
my eighteen year old Kimberly, was killed,
you say that you can't imagine the pain.   Here
is what I don't understand ~ ~ I can't imagine
it either.  I can feel it, taste it, smell it, live it
every day,  but I can not imagine it.  I assume
the brain cannot imagine something so
horrible.  Edgar Allen Poe nor Steven King
could ever create such a nightmare. 
People like me can awaken to it daily and live
the nightmare every second of every day.  But
even as we live it,  we can not imagine it.
I wish I didn't have to live it.  I wish I didn't
have to "know" it, even though  I can't
understand nor imagine it.  Imagination is
not that horrible.  Imagination has boundries.This is beyond boundries, beyond walls, beyond fences, beyond imagination.  So you might as well stop trying to imagine.  Don't go there,  you really
don't want to.  I pray you never have to.
It's  so alone out here.  No matter how many
of us are out here, we are still alone.  We see
others.  We hear others.  We understand the
others who are here, but  we ultimately  are
still alone in our individual situations.
Those of us who are here are the only ones
who can come close to understanding, but we
still can't imagine being here.  I know it
does not make sense.  I told you at the beginning I would tell you something I  do
not understand;  something no one can
imagine, something no one wants to know.
I did not paragraph this on purpose.  There is
a beginning but no end,  no place to paragraph,
no words explain, no imagination explains,
nothing.........
Yolonda Moore
Mother of
Kimberly Ann Moore
December 7 1978 ~~November 14 1997
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The Darkness
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