From A Wallflower's Point Of View

When It All Began

It has certainly been a while since I last written something. I missed the scent of paper. My hands are once again stained with black ink from my favorite pen. I don't mind it one bit. For some odd reason whenever I look at my ink stained hands it gives me a sense of comfort. No one knows this little secret of mine.

I really hesitated for a long while. Whether or not I should write again. Times have changed, I am not the same writer that I used to be a long time ago. But something within me couldn't exactly stop myself from doing this. So I ended up sitting on my old desk scribbling a few words until it somehow managed to pile up.

The world moves too fast for my liking. It wasn't like this before. In fact, when I was younger the world used to move so slow. As I grew up though, the world's pace suddenly started to accelerate. Before I knew it, I was lost.

I don't know what I should do actually. I haven't thought that much. I was too busy trying to catch up with the new world around me. Trying to fit in, trying to live, and most importantly trying to be myself. I don't exactly remember when everything all happened, but I do remember some parts.

I just need to know that someone out there would listen, and understand. At the very least try to. I want to know that there are people out there who does. I want to know that I am not the only person in this world who wants to be understood. I know that everyone feels the same way.

So, this is my life. This who I am, and who I think I am. I am still trying to figure things out. I want you to know that I am both happy and somewhat unhappy with my life. I'm also trying to figure out if it's even possible to feel this way. I might never know, the human heart is a complicated thing after all.