Sometimes trudging through my word doc files is a depressing state. Abandoned stories untold, the character’s corpses cluttering up the hard drive. I have been known to resurrect them, even years later. This usually happens after a visit to their perpetual state of limbo (their file) and I remember why I created them in the first place.
Tonight, I found something to post in the forgotten files. I do delight in finding something I wrote, saved, and forgot about. I feel like this particular piece was written by my future self through my past self as a reminder for my present self. If that’s a bit woo for you, pardon my esoteric eccentricities.
Written a decade ago, a short, little piece I entitled it: Because, due of the nature of it even though my writer’s instinct told me using a subordinating conjunction (not that my grammar is that proficient, mind you, but my use of google is) as the title and as the first word in several lines was most likely a grammatical sin, but I didn’t care because it fits. May the grammar gods have mercy on my writer’s rebel soul.
Because
Because you’re different than they are.
Because you don’t think like they do.
Because you see what they never will.
Because you understand what they don’t.
Because you’ll say what they can’t.
Because you wear their labels so well.
I wonder, do you think they feel better now that they have defined that which they will never comprehend?
Rock those labels and do it with a smile, you rebel soul.
SB LACROIX 
Share your thoughts