Somewhere in the galaxy, there's a girl, with her feet throbbing in tedious pain, inputs her vents into the World Wide Web. Some will read it, some won't.
But that's not the real story.
The real story is about friendship and love. About trust, loyalty and courage. It's about life and time and change. Girls and boys write stories just like her. They hide in veils and masks and hope to fit in. Some did. Some didn't. It's a story that has history and chapters yet to be written.
Sometimes to find the real story, you have to look away, into the shadows on the fringe of the obvious. Can you see it?
Somewhere in the galaxy, there's a girl, with her feet throbbing in tedious pain, inputs her vents into the World Wide Web. Critics will criticize and spectators will spectate. They'll talk how wrong the writer's grammar is or how she polish her words to draw more audience.
But that's not the real story. As a matter of fact, that's not the story at all.
But that's not the real story.
The real story is about friendship and love. About trust, loyalty and courage. It's about life and time and change. Girls and boys write stories just like her. They hide in veils and masks and hope to fit in. Some did. Some didn't. It's a story that has history and chapters yet to be written.
Sometimes to find the real story, you have to look away, into the shadows on the fringe of the obvious. Can you see it?
Somewhere in the galaxy, there's a girl, with her feet throbbing in tedious pain, inputs her vents into the World Wide Web. Critics will criticize and spectators will spectate. They'll talk how wrong the writer's grammar is or how she polish her words to draw more audience.
But that's not the real story. As a matter of fact, that's not the story at all.
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