what if, the most unlikely of people could turn out to be a kindled spirit? a lot of times, we deny ourselves the chance to ever find out, for whatever first impressions or preconceptions we might harbor. on a seperate note, insinuation from sincere guardians mark the perimeter of precarious choices.
what if, for a moment, the roles were reversed, and the very same stigma be engraved onto us. would the exiled wish for a savior, if not just a glance of acknowledgement without the accompanying sneer or accusing stare? or does it feel like we're just blindly misunderstood, by default? after all, it's not much of a choice; to be shunned, or to shield ourself with an air of innocence- it just seems like a hopeless crusade. or maybe, no cause is never worth championing, because even the most minuscule drop of ink can taint a glass of water. and it makes all the difference in the world for that glass.
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