Well,words are a mere compilation of letters. I am. I exist. I am just not flesh and bones. I am me. I am her. I am him. I am. I’m not easy. I’m human. Or even far beyond that. Isn’t it strange? Describing yourself? When you actually are everyone? I am not made of just myself. I am made of a plethora of memories,people related to the memories or just innumerable souls which have surfaced the Earth. I often ask myself,are we the universe or the universe is us? Amidst this colossal mess,maybe I was created. I generally believe that I am nothing but a name. But sometimes,just sometimes,I feel I am much more. I am curious,yet complacent. I aspire to feel. I aspire to experience the state:euphoria. I aspire. I think that’s enough. To aspire. To be moved. To be inspired. I am an extrovert,but,inside,maybe I’m different. I am someone who believes. Someone who doesn’t ponder on things and just goes with the flow. I don’t thank God everyday,but, I believe there’s a Creator. I want to create. If not magic,something close to that. I am. I am. I am.