Angst Is My Middle Name
Angst is not something reserved for the young; it is
Not limited to teenage love and passion and heartbreak. In fact, it
Gets worse with age. The young only have their love to regret; the old have all their
Evils hanging over their heads and haunting their still, empty hearts. The angst of the young is bred from
Love passionately experienced and subsequently lost. The angst of the old is bred from the opposite: poisonous hatred emanating from the past.
Quick note: While we're on the subject of blogfests, the lovely Ali Cross is doing a blogfest of her own! It's a flash fiction blogfest (250 words or less) and it is this Friday, so it fits in perfectly with the Poetry Schmoetry blogfest! So if you don't want to stop writing after Thursday is up, check out Ali's blogfest, too :)