I’m addicted to stories and words.
I can’t help it. It’s a part of me and it always has been. I have made stories since I could talk. So much of my life has been centered around stories, either mine or someone else’s. I inhale air and exhale words.
Even if no one reads them, I will still be making stories. Even if I never write them down, even if I never tell a word, even if they exist only and solely in my mind, I will still be making stories. It’s in my blood. It is my blood. From a non-scientific view, my DNA is a double helix of sentences and paragraphs.
I will teach them to have hope and I will teach them the meaning of pain and I will show them the stars as if they could shake hands with them. I will teach them to believe in themselves and to know that they are beautiful. I will teach them to dream and to believe in impossible things. I will teach them to be passionate for what they believe in and I will teach them to find peace in an ending that is not what they have hoped for.