One. In This Whole Big World.

I am laying awake. It's early morning and I can hear the rain drizzling outside. My window is open and the fresh, crisp air envelopes me. The chorus of rain is accompanied by an occasional thunder clap and my room is illuminated by the lightning. And in the early mornings, I feel like I am the only person awake in this whole big world. It's a lonely feeling, but I don't mind. I feel alive as words flow through me. My solitude invites intimacy to my feelings. 
I love words. They are so powerful. Words have a way of crawling into me and changing the way I think, consequentially, changing the way I choose to act. Words clean up the messes in my mind. My writing is my emotional organization. Sometimes my words come out in a disorganized gush.

 It is my ultimate goal to use my words to influence others for the better: the ones I speak, the ones I write, or by the words that cannot be spoken.

 Parallel to my love of words is my love of music. I have been involved in many different aspects of music throughout my life. And I have found that music fills gaps that words can't express. Music provokes feelings that sometimes can't be put into words. Music, like words, can move people to action. 

Downloading my life through the gentle click of my keyboard. Releasing my thoughts onto a clean sheet of paper: a visible symbol of my existence. Letting the tension run off of my shoulders and disperse into the piano. I feel the clutter leave through my fingertips. It's amazing that my fingers can communicate this way. I close the piano, shut the laptop, lock my journal. I make my mark as one. In this whole big world.