{"id":1297,"date":"2009-07-30T08:25:46","date_gmt":"2009-07-30T07:25:46","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/mindwork.net\/myblog\/?p=1297"},"modified":"2009-07-30T08:25:46","modified_gmt":"2009-07-30T07:25:46","slug":"windmills","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/mindwork.net\/myblog\/?p=1297","title":{"rendered":"windmills"},"content":{"rendered":"<blockquote><p> There is fiction in the space between<br \/>\nThe lines on your page of memories<br \/>\nWrite it down but it doesn&#8217;t mean<br \/>\nYou&#8217;re not just telling stories\n <\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p>As always with things that happened in the past you start glorifying them they suddenly seem to have been bigger than life itself. Just in this little case they really were. There hasn&#8217;t been a single day ever since I returned that I haven&#8217;t been thinking of St. Pete &#038; the Times. It&#8217;s not about a place or a newspaper, it&#8217;s about how I felt there: needed, appreciated, worth being taken care of even if the clock was mercilessly ticking away towards the day of my departure. And that day I felt something that I had yet again started to take as granted was being ripped from me &#8211; the older you get the more it hurts. I knew what to expect back home, I knew that the cynics would eventually get back on top of me again and I knew that it would only be a matter of time, when I would start to crack under it. Yes, it wasn&#8217;t a question of &#8220;if&#8221; but only a matter of &#8220;when&#8221;. That moment has somehow arrived. I&#8217;m 29 and there has to be more out there than the daily fighting and biting. But worst of all I feel my dream is being taken away from me. Because all I ever wanted to do was telling stories.<\/p>\n<p>I believe.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>There is fiction in the space between The lines on your page of memories Write it down but it doesn&#8217;t mean You&#8217;re not just telling stories As always with things that happened in the past you start glorifying them they suddenly seem to have been bigger than life itself. Just in this little case they&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1297","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-miracle-drug"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mindwork.net\/myblog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1297","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mindwork.net\/myblog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mindwork.net\/myblog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mindwork.net\/myblog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mindwork.net\/myblog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1297"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/mindwork.net\/myblog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1297\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1298,"href":"https:\/\/mindwork.net\/myblog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1297\/revisions\/1298"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mindwork.net\/myblog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1297"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mindwork.net\/myblog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1297"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mindwork.net\/myblog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1297"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}