in this world of the overwhelming quantity of content and competition of time and attention, we quantify ourselves as only a speck in the midst of it all. so, what matters? it’s the circle of people who surround us where our voices resonate the loudest. the true and loyal. at the end of it, we always wrote/write for ourselves. that is always the intention of every piece of literary work. an echo of us for us to remind, to cherish, to play, to reflect, to rethink and look inside ourselves. it’s our therapy. and those you have stuck around and listened. thank you.
jacob greb
We are all a speck. But a speck of worth, of value.
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