I believe in words.
Words hold a power beyond my belief. I know, if I couldn’t for any reason be able to write, it would bring forth sadness within me that I don’t think could be fulfilled in any way. I look at the words I write, and I’m excited. Seeing those inky letters that I made on crisp, clean paper thrills me, no matter how many times I see it. Words are a part of me.
I have words written on my soul. Although I don’t know everything they’re saying sometimes, I do know that they’re telling me, I’m a writer. It doesn’t matter if I’m good or bad—that’s for others to decide. But I know that I’m a writer, because I love it—I’ll always want to do it. Everybody has something in their soul, and words are definitely not in all souls, but everyone has something they do, and even if they feel like they aren’t good at it, I believe if they love it, and they like doing it, that’s what they should do regardless of how others judge them.
There was a dream I once had. It was long—I still think it must be one of the strangest I’ve ever had. This dream wouldn’t leave me, I thought about it every day. When an idea comes into my head that I like, it’s impossible to ignore. It wasn’t long after that that I started putting it down on paper, capturing it like an exotic butterfly—but this butterfly was different. Sometimes I would have a hold of it, but other times, it would merely fly through my hands and drift away. There were days when I couldn’t think and it drove me insane, having something I love just sit there, fluttering its wings longingly, but trapped, unfinished.
It’s one of the things I’m still writing today, although there are other, better ideas that I’ve captured, my collection growing. I hope I can keep these creatures alive, because words are something that can be wild, timid, furious or awestruck—and keeping them alive, letting more people read them is something I would love to do forever. I don’t think I’m the best writer I can be yet—there’s always room for improvement—but I’ll always love to have my collection of butterflies, fluttering around with their delicate, descriptive wings, ready to be set free into the world, ready to feel the wind under their wings lift them up.
I believe words have the power to change the world. They can bring great destruction—but more importantly, re-fix that chaos created—heal wounds over hearts which are sometimes the deepest injuries.
Words have changed my life, which why I believe I can change somebody else’s life with my words, my stunning butterflies. I believe no matter what dies out, like the hottest trends, words will be there to help us understand, and see what path we wish to take. That’s why I believe in words.
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