The nights are cold where I come from. There is a silence that prolongs, and the void is always ready, always willing for more. Some seldom contemplate the weight of their choices, of their very words and abilities. They tell themselves some things are a waste of their time. That they in some way are insignificant enough to have no bearing on others, or worse, consider others not worthy enough of it. We all deserve the chance to be acknowledged we feel, we live, we find misery and happiness.
Yet there is a persisting denial in that we are all worth the weight of chance, and potential. That in the moments we find ourselves weak, vulnerable...empty..we can't raise to this world what we feel is lacking...but we must. We must persist because we can, because we are worthy of trying, and deserving of forging our worlds. Your words are power, your hands are destiny waiting to become truth. You are the drop on the water's surface of an ocean, and make no mistake, there are waves only made by you. Never deny what power you have, because you deserve to know you're more important than you might think.
