...get to the good part.

As I lay awake I begin to ponder... Do I really exist?

Am I nothing more than a phantom writer who gets an occasional glance? A singer who blends within a choir group till she is nothing more than part of a music machine?

By writing these things, do I make anyone think? Do I touch souls and bring peace to others minds? Or do I cause more questions and painful thoughts?

I must be helping someone out there...

In a choir all the voices mash into one. Yet without different parts you would hear only one side of a song. Singing is music for the soul. Perhaps I am feeding someone's soul. Keeping it alive.

I must be helping someone out there...

Is my purpose to lecture to the world? To describe what is wrong and point it out? To wake you up and show you what you are missing?

I hope I'm helping someone out there...

I am the words in a book you skim over quickly to get to the good part. I am the lecture in the class you doodled or passed notes in. I am the old relative who's knowledge is slowly fading for no one will listen.

Ahh... Pick me up and read. Look up and listen. Visit my little corner and hear my words. I may be able to help you with your sorrows. Show you truth where there were only lies. Give you peace of mind. Show you the questions you should be thinking about.



I may not be exciting, but the words of life can be.



...the ramblings of a dreamer at heart...