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But I am the pen. Mundane and boring. I am as the day. I never change. I am not unexpected. I am me. I am disappointed in myself for never trying harder. I’m full of air. Full of half-hearted attempts. I fall short every time. Perhaps I realize that I can’t fly Even though my whole life I boasted about the wings I made for myself. Talked about my accomplishments And shoved them in people’s faces. Who was I to be different? The main character often Doesn’t realize that they are the hero until something In their life changes. Something monumentally huge. And yet nothing in my life has been so grand. Nothing has delved that deep into my being. Mere things have touched the surface. I have to keep telling myself that everything changes. And that one day I may change too. And I better, for the fate of my story depends on it. Wanderlust Breana Hylla 9
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