Another one

Day two of this, crazy spontaneous writing.

No. I do not have a sob story.

Yes. I'm lying about the sob story but its too early to let it out yet.

Yes. I have problems, what's it to yah?

And yes, I am dying.

Physically? Well, in the great scheme of things, aren't we all?

Emotionally? Every day of my fudging life. Probably why I started writing it all down. To calm down. To be heard.

I hope this reaches that one person.

Probably not. Who knows. It doesn't matter, none of it does.

I'm supposed to be writing a story, for... Extracurricular purposes, but here I am. Simply writing down bits and pieces of my life in a blank page. How sad. But really, its all I have left. My words are all I have left.

And its enough. Well for me, its enough.

In fact its more than enough to say the least. The way I see it, words is one of the most powerful thing you can ever have; the way your lips form and shape air to just right to make sound that produces meaning. The way the sound escapes your throat and into the unknown world waiting to be deciphered. The way you could build an image just by saying the right terms. The way it can hurt, to either make or break a person. Or the way it can inspire and lift someone up to their full potential.

That's real magic.

Or a curse.

Words have turned and changed people for the better. It has been a way to build nations, to establish civilizations, to cause connections that in turn made the world a whole lot easier to live in. But it also caused so much pain and misery. And longing. And broken promises. And lost friends.

I hope this reaches that one person.

Probably not. Who knows. It doesn't matter, none of it does.

I don't even know if any of it mattered in the first place.