Screw this

I am bored...bored of every word I've spoken so far; bored of the letters I scribbled down here; bored of the thoughts that I adhered once and then rewritten by another one; I am bored of finding meaningless meanings to life. Because at the end none of them really matters.
My friend says, 'burn your words, murder your stories'. Maybe that's what is needed. Just getting your ass out there and to live it. Stop blabbering about things you never felt. But be it. What you write, what you think is all wrong. If you were living it, you might not have to think after all. All philosophies should be removed from the pages that were wasted on it and make it real. Reality doesn't need a philosophy. Reality doesn't need anything, but just you, and me.

I wish I was an influential leader and my words could change a person's heart, his thinking. But I'm not. I wish I was a writer and people would read me with a ‘aww’ and consider me creative. I'll never be that. I wish I was a good friend to whom every friend could rely with their pains. I don't know how to be that. I am not even Julie Powell. All these letters, all these words-they are just mine. They will always be just mine. In fact time will even take me away from them. I won't recognize them anymore. Then why? Why this and why not just asking myself, who am I!

Who am I...

Who am I...

I am an ordinary girl in a big city, fighting everyday to believe that I'm worth!