The Story of this Fruity Muse

I want to begin telling you my Story ~ yet be aware, this story does not really have a beginning and it never really ends. This story is a motion in progress, a creation in creation, a series of waves within the ocean. So here is my attempt to give you these waves, to bring these waves forth and let them fly and crash, becoming a part of your sea, too.
I grew up in a backyard forest where black raspberries grew in tasty abundance. I wandered those forest, in my dream-waking and dream-sleeping, and I became a fairy of the woods- a keeper, a secret-teller, a mischievous flirt. My wings sprouted yet remained hidden in the faces of the this-and-that, yet, for all this, I never forgot. I cried often, and felt the sharp sting of the "adults" control illusions; I knew in my heart they could not create my creation, and in my moments of dreaming I remembered all that could not be spoken.
Illusions of the nurturers have a funny way of rubbing off, though, and I spiraled into worlds I am only now remembering. As I grew older, I became sarcastic, and unappreciative oftentimes. The magic never faded, but the stories I was told began to be the stories I would tell myself, and they were lies. Twisted fables of worlds of concrete, metal and icy glass made by metal hands. It hurt so bad to listen to these myths, and my mind became a place vulnerable to religion and it's hopeful claims. Beautiful, I felt. The Light that is carried by Love, I saw. Gradually it all became so complex, so overbearing that I couldn't keep grasping at all these straws..enough desolation and desperation and absolute, profound curiosity and a will to keep going led me down a rabbit hole...And I really can't complain. ;)