Starter

since when I say what is inside me, at least to strangers , I have always wished to write ,any thing , my story , it sound big ,do I have a story ,does any one care about my story ? do I even care about it ,most of the time I just keep saing to my self just breath ,just exist ,belive me it might be useful for others even if you fade up , but am not happy . I know the way to be happy ,I can see the light far away but pull my self back ,get farer and cry ,even some times I can't cry .