Chapter Seventeen

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Seven words per a sentence. Four sentences per a paragraph. Five paragraphs per a page. How many of those words will never be heard? I write in these notebooks, but will they ever be read? I hope she opens it, but her stubbornness may not allow it. Thousands and thousands of words, from me alone in these entries. 
How many times have I wanted to say something and hold my tongue? At least five times today. I wanted to say more to Katrina, more to Myles. What's their problem anyway? Why must they say anything? Those words I wish were forgotten. Although, I would like to hear the shitty comeback he had to Evvie's. I doubt he had one though.
I believe 90% of people in the United States want to write a book, but how many actually do? Not many, and they don't always finish or get accepted. More forgotten words. More stories that will never be heard. It's sad to think about how you will die without making a dent in the amount of books that you haven't  read. So, so, so, so many stories you'll never come across. Makes the books you read even more special. It's the same with movies, music, people. Words you'll never get to hear.
How can you forget words you've never heard? Maybe it's the absence of them. Sometimes you crave to hear certain words from certain people's lips. Explanations, statements, stories, questions….apologies.
Have you ever heard something a million times but when you hear it from a certain person at a certain time it just clicks? It's like the words never made it to our brain, they just mindlessly bounced off.
That happens with words too, they say it often and we hear it often but sometimes it just doesn't register in our brain.  It takes just the right moment for us to actually listen. And sometimes we never do.

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