This is just so beautifully written!
I always wanted to be somebody, but I guess I should’ve been more specific.
If we’re made of the same skin and bones as everybody else, what is it that really makes us different?
It’s a question that haunted every empty second of my life, for as long as I can remember. It’s something that I ponder over and something I get frustrated over. If we’re all going to end up as dust, returned to the Earth, sounding the melodies it sounds, where do our symphonies stand? Interred with our bones? Dead, like the wood of our coffins?
All I know is that I can’t be a pile of organic waste in some catacombs. All I know is that whatever it is that makes us different, I want it. I want to make a difference. I want to be remembered. I want to wrest something out of my life that…
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