I am a writer, not so I can present my woes to the world and expect sympathy; but because I am not alone in the emotions that bombard my mind. My job isn’t to die in happiness springing from fulfillment, it is to shine the mirror on the world, and perhaps find my niche. Nor is it my right to claim I alone writhe in the sorrow of the world; because I don’t.
“The world owes you nothing, it was here first,” – Mark Twain
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