Sound of silence.

Drinking a bottle of wine, and listening to the Sound of Silence. I'm reflective. I've been campaigning on here for someone and loads of people don't even read me. It's finny. I tired to volunteer and help because I'm probably the biggest supporter, but because I didn't want to do door to door no one ever contact me. 

I didn't want to do door to door because I can't walk and stand for extended periods, medically. But they didn't hear that. So no calls for when something else opened. Missed out on the biggest supporter they have. 

Anyways, I just wish one person made a difference. I have always told myself that we are each uniquely and divinely created. That we are all special and only each of us individually can actually do the job we were placed here to do. I still firmly believe that and hold onto that hope. 

However I've been writing for years, and hoping people would read me and start a community, just like those on YouTube. I even was going to start up volgging but alas I write and write and no one responds or reads. And those who read once don't come back. 

So I keep on, and on, and push on and hope I make a difference, but do I, really, do I? This song fully describes how I feel. 

SIMON & GARFUNKEL LYRICS

"The Sound Of Silence"

Hello darkness, my old friend,

I've come to talk with you again,

Because a vision softly creeping,

Left its seeds while I was sleeping,

And the vision that was planted in my brain

Still remains

Within the sound of silence.

In restless dreams I walked alone

Narrow streets of cobblestone,

'Neath the halo of a street lamp,

I turned my collar to the cold and damp

When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light

That split the night

And touched the sound of silence.

And in the naked light I saw

Ten thousand people, maybe more.

People talking without speaking,

People hearing without listening,

People writing songs that voices never share

And no one dared

Disturb the sound of silence.

"Fools," said I, "You do not know.

Silence like a cancer grows.

Hear my words that I might teach you.

Take my arms that I might reach you."

But my words like silent raindrops fell

And echoed in the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed

To the neon god they made.

And the sign flashed out its warning

In the words that it was forming.

And the sign said, "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls

And tenement halls

And whispered in the sounds of silence."

Peace, love and light!