Missing Comma Analysis
I was born on a cold winter's morning on the 27th July 1955 in a small gold mining town in South Africa.
The destiny that awaited that screaming pinkish purple little boy dangling from a midwife's impassionate hand on that cold winter's morning on the 27th July 1955 was to be one of incredible pain, upheavals, (missing comma) and constant anguish.
My earliest memory is of an African woman, her baby tightly bound to her back with a woollen blanket, singing softly while going about her chores in our sparsely furnished room. I must have spent many hours clinging to the bars of my playpen watching this mother and child fusion because sixty years later I understand that it was that scene that destroyed my life.
I hated the playpen, the cold floor, (missing comma) and the bars. I so badly wanted to be tied tightly to my mother's back, with a woollen blanket. I so badly wanted that bond, that intimacy. I wanted to hear her every breath, the beating of her tender heart. I yearned to be at one with her, to feel the movement of her body. Bliss would have been to hear the sounds of her sweet voice softly singing whilst she worked. …show more content…
The pain born of intense anxiety does not reside in the memory, it manifests itself deep within your being and defines your very existence. Violence and conflict were the earliest sources for the intense anxiety I suffered as an infant. It was also the fertile breeding ground from which grew much of the malevolence that would remain with me for all of my
The destiny that awaited that screaming pinkish purple little boy dangling from a midwife's impassionate hand on that cold winter's morning on the 27th July 1955 was to be one of incredible pain, upheavals, (missing comma) and constant anguish.
My earliest memory is of an African woman, her baby tightly bound to her back with a woollen blanket, singing softly while going about her chores in our sparsely furnished room. I must have spent many hours clinging to the bars of my playpen watching this mother and child fusion because sixty years later I understand that it was that scene that destroyed my life.
I hated the playpen, the cold floor, (missing comma) and the bars. I so badly wanted to be tied tightly to my mother's back, with a woollen blanket. I so badly wanted that bond, that intimacy. I wanted to hear her every breath, the beating of her tender heart. I yearned to be at one with her, to feel the movement of her body. Bliss would have been to hear the sounds of her sweet voice softly singing whilst she worked. …show more content…
The pain born of intense anxiety does not reside in the memory, it manifests itself deep within your being and defines your very existence. Violence and conflict were the earliest sources for the intense anxiety I suffered as an infant. It was also the fertile breeding ground from which grew much of the malevolence that would remain with me for all of my