Hey shug,
I sit here today, more quiet, more contemplative than I've felt lately. I wish I had the magic words for this piece, or a clear idea of where it was going. I sit around and wonder, does anything on my blog mean anything? Does it come out as a clear representation of how I feel, or do I just start writing and keep on with whatever sounds good in my head. Are you impressed with your writing, or do you ever look at it and feel like it's fake? Does anything I say even matter? Have my words ever truly changed anyone's heart, have yours? Do your words feel deeply important and relevant? Did my words ever change your heart? They didn't make my mom come back. That didn't make anyone be there for me when I totaled my car. They didn't make him let me see his kids. Writing has always been an escape, but if they never change anything, what am I doing? I guess the same shit I'm always doing, just trying to cope. I mean that's how I started writing. To you, every night. It was the only thing I could do. Did you ever hear those words? No. Do you hear them now? No. Do you care what happened to me, my story? No. Do I just keep going at it, like I'm drowning and these words are my only savior? Yes. I look around and feel like everyone's life is falling into place, except mine. I'm still little lost Samantha, while everyone else manages to get their shit together. I'm that one person it's easy to overlook while everyone just keeps going. Then again, I was always an easy one to leave behind. At least it's consistent. All the people who have left, do they care what happens to me, what becomes of me? Will my life ever actually count for anything? You keep fighting, against all odds that all of this isn't for nothing. That life matters and eventually we all find a place to our soul. What if it doesn't? What if the ultimate, cosmic joke is that life doesn't matter, it has no purpose and is automatically and continuously stacked against you. That nothing you do will ever truly matter/ My words don't matter, and they probably never will. Do you still write? Your words were real words, power to change and connect with people words. Per usual, drink one for me.
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