Passages//thoughts spun wildly

These are not poetry or prose. They don't rhyme, they don't have cuts and pauses to beautify their rhythm, they don't exactly ebb and flow in all the right places. They simply are passages of text, with not much thought put into them, but much emotion. They're not meant to be enjoyed, or to be lauded. They're meant to make you feel something. Touch you somewhere you've never known to exist. They are silent, altruistic hopefuls, waiting to be picked up, not for appreciation or for want of fuel for self-pride, but to inspire you, inspire in you a fire for life, for creation, for being and not.