Hilary D Zamora writes

Slivers of slight, faded memories of instances that occurred during my ether days are muted and uniformed, silenced by disgrace. It’s a complicated emotion to try and depict. Countless times I have tried to analyze and identify this time period in my life. Why was I so susceptible to the crowd’s notions? I was so easily influenced by the things others were taking part in. On occasion I’d question if I was following my instincts, wanting to fit in, or if I was in a constant mode of escape. If it had anything at all to do with the fight or flight response, flight was the side of the tossed coin I chose; I never chose to fight. That just wasn’t my way, and in flight, I could see everything down below, from a safe distance within the clouds.~Hilary D Zamora