I don't know who I'm writing to exactly or why I'm writing this at all. I just need to write. It feels good....safe. I need to write until my eyes droop and my thoughts begin to drift away to another place. I need to feel the serenity of silence with my mind buzzing for what to write next. All the while my hand scribbles away, forming pages and pages full of words. Soon the pages become a story; with a beginning, middle, and end. My eyes begin to droop, but yet I persist. Who would've thought something so good could have come from this? Simple words. Simple sentences. All coming together to form this small paragraph. But I still don't know who I'm writing to exactly or why I'm writing this at all.