What would happen if everyone fell to the ground and became only specks of dust. Would only the earth remember their presents? There's always a time in one's life when everything seems shy, shallow, and unreachable. When hope stays a great distance. But what if everything that seemed good was just the front layer of a mask. The ground beneath us, would it still breath with ease? Would people's smile still light up the dark?
For a mind of a child, I know little. That is why I write with so many questions. I hope to find the right people to guide me to the right answers, and also to tell me why I see so many visions whenever I close my eyes. What is this strong urge that makes me want to pick up a pencil and record my thoughts?
I always feel as if there's someone calling for my help. As for my reply, I can only whisper it in my head. It's a feeling that relates to the saying, "I belong somewhere, just don't know where."
For my versions, it's not a place I'm looking for. It's a person... sometimes I think I'm going mad. But on the other side, I know its real.
Sometimes, I believe the words I write are not mine, but that person's.
At times, I scare myself with the things I write, the visions I see when I close my eyes. The images I see when I look at blank paper. The shadow in my head that never lets my mind rest. Seeing beyond, is it real?
If so, why me?