Who Am I?

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My hand always rests against paper, ink flowing from the depths of my imagination, forming as art on the paper. The words flow and create speech and its like creating your own world. The words in my stories. The images from my drawings, the sound of my music and my soul. You can never say that I am worthless, or meaningless for I have a role in my own little world.

(We all have a role in this world... Fulfill it.)

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