I wish everyday brought a First. Of course one would tell me I'm the one making them. Bringing them to life.
I wish every word I wrote was a Word. Of course one would tell me all of them are. It's all in the intent.
Whether the day is bleak, or not so bad, or even nice once in a while, surely a First would make it fuller. A story filled with Words would make it magical.
Through troubled times, on the verge of losing my mind, I wonder... Are my expectations too much, too heavy to carry? I don't have the answer. Even when pointed to, I don't think I could see it.
A ghost, a sad poet, an error 404... A teenaged girl and a pseudointellectual bullshitivist... In a string of words, in the home of the quiet velcro or in the skirmish of dark and light. I find glory... I find love for art... I live life in your panels. To no end.
So today I intend. Because you were my Firsts, you are my Words.