Self Served, Even as a Child

Ihave been writing about and studying this existence concept for quite some time now.  Of course most of these thoughts up to this point have been confined to the pages of my eclectic collection of journals.  I have dream logs, pages upon pages of poetry scraps and a nice selection of rambling thoughts all made of ink on paper.  Up until recently the lucid me or the "big self" as it were has been aching to soar free, but I had kept her in my stronghold, refusing to allow her flight.  In my adolescent years I knew nothing other than to become whatever it was that was instilled in me from birth, but as I grew up and continued upon the path set forth for me I realized that I didn't agree with the lessons that I was being taught.  I attended service every Sunday and I knew that whatever it was I was feeling was not a sense of divine nature, but rather more of a precise decimation at the very core of my being.  When I was eight I told my family that I no longer wanted to go to Sunday school, and by the time I turned thirteen I had stopped going to church altogether.  For several more years I humored my grandmother by accompanying her on Easter Sundays and Midnight Masses but it wasn't long before I discovered semantics.  Yes believe it or not, it was in this melding of language, history and mind where a mere thought between the ears of a child blossomed into a life calling.  From that day forward I vowed to experience every moment of this thing called life.