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I think it's funny how I log into Steemit for the first time in a while. It feels like I didn't miss much, but I know there were plenty of intriguing posts made by various people from various places.
I want to post, share something, but I feel speechless.
Then it occurred to me... the more words in my mind, the harder it is to bring them to my lips, much less my finger tips.
I began to type the words "future", "fantasy", "wish", "maybe"...but I knew what hid behind those few vague words.
Fear for my future.
Curiosity about those who deny that the concerns that haunt me don't exist, but are made up political trash. If they felt what I felt for the reasons I feel it, would they still feel the same?
I fantasize about real, true love. Strong love. Maybe I'll find it. Maybe I won't. Maybe the world will learn to love as a community. Maybe it won't.
There's so much. Maybe I'll find real peace with it all. Maybe I won't.
I have so much I want to say... maybe someone will hear me and care, maybe they won't. When I cry, maybe someone will notice, maybe they won't. I have great relationships in my life, and I'm living pretty fully for my age. Please don't take this post the wrong way.
But in the silence of the night, so much passes through my head. I take a lot to bed with me, which I'm trying to work on. I know a lot of people experience the same thing.
There's so much I wish could be said to fill the silence, but I find myself only acting as a mirror to it.
I remain speechless.