When days are dark and all you have to listen to, is your pen and paper. To write how you feel hoping that someone will hear you. Page after page calling it crap because of a not so good line. Tearing it up and throwing it away, only to do it over and over again, till your eye lids get heavy and you finally go to bed. Waking up to understand that all the struggle you had was trying to write something that you had not figured out yet, something that you were not in touch with to explain clearly where your feelings lie. And that sometimes you just have to let go and let God. And that the story will sound so much better after you have seen the hand of God making a way where there seemed to be a dead end.