Marks
They speak of life as a black-and-white reel, where they wanna force you into the dark, demanding that you bow to them.
Do not listen; it is all noise, meaningless noise.
They want to shut you out because you do not fit their agendas, their control crumbling because of who you are.
But the ones remembered, the ones who change the world as we know it? Never fit in, never. They are the ones who sang when booed, who broke the silence demanded of them. Who write when the pen was stolen, who loved when the world chose to hate them; they held their heads high against it all.
You matter, you are more than the noise, more than the hate, more than the heavy fist of dictatorship, more than you will ever know.
It is never about a label. It is about being you, what you believe, who you love, what you cherish; it all matters.
Why choose to be normal when you were born to be you?
Everyone has a story to tell, to write, to hear, to read. A lesson to teach, a lesson to learn, a dream to reach.
Make your mark, whether big or small, whether positive or negative; that is not the point.
You do not make a mark to fill a history book, but to know thyself. Your mark shows you who you are, who you were, and whom you shall become. It is about touching lives, including your own.
You may never know the mark you leave, nor the quiet ways you save another, or even yourself; it is not about knowing; it is about being, being you.
Being you is the most natural and beautiful thing in the world; you are a miracle; you are a mark and a story waiting to be heard.
--Comet
