I just had an epiphany of how you never opened me yet.
How you have never read my content.
How you have never studied my words.
How you have never understood my story.
Huh, I really just realized that.
What a wonder sitting alone in a dark, dark, dark room under the comfort of the pale moon above can do to your thoughts.
I recommend it.
My story isn't much, to be in complete truth. I'm really plain. I'm simple with no destiny or prophecy to fulfill. I have no extravagant beginnings nor James Bond adventures. I'm just a prose.
Yes!
A simple prose is all I am.
A prose...
A prose with no direction, that is.
Consider this the prologue, something to give you a glimpse of who I truly am.
A person not worth knowing.
A person not worth learning.
A person not worth living.
A person, that is, with no direction.
.
.
.
.
.
I don't like being around people better than me.
It just makes me feel more pathetic than I already am.
I wonder if this'll be good.
Hopefully, it's decent enough.
After all, I'm not a very good writer.
YOU ARE READING
A Prose With No Direction
SpiritualA prose with no direction. A mind with no guidance. A human without a purpose. That is the kind of story I hate to be. That is the kind of story I, unfortunately, am.
