I'm just a stat to other's blogs.
I'm just a soldier in a war,
I'm just one person, behind the scenes,
No one sees me, yet there I am,
Working, trying, sweating, crying,
No one knows where their food comes from.
I'm just a lonely little letter,
all I care for is myself,
and all I am is that: I.
Is there reason, destiny, or control to demand why each of us lives on this planet today? Or are we just the spawn of a generation of hippies and rockers, who were bread in fear after the war. Of the seven billion of us on this planet, who actually makes a difference? We all affect our friends and loved ones, sure, but who affects people enough to be those great people, the notable figures in society? I'm guessing less than 1%.
I know I'm not that <1%. But that acceptance does not mean that I cease to exist. I just have to find solace in what I can do, and leave the big political decisions to those people with burdens the size of Norway on their shoulders.
Today I don't like my existence. I wish there was more for me here.