stevependous

The Owl City Fandom right now seems to be divided into three groups right now.

The OMG WHAT DID HE DO TO HIS BEAUTIFUL HAIR ASFLDKJSLDFSDFSLDFS group.

The GUYS CALM DOWN HE IS ALLOWED TO DO WHAT HE WANTS WITH HIS HAIR THERE IS NO POINT IN COMPLAINING IT WILL GROW BACK SO STOP BEING NUTJOBS group.

And the group that just continues to post pictures of Adam in the grey tank-top of sexy and his shirtless picture and still can’t believe they have a picture of Adam shirtless.

Tears stream down my face. I stare at the shirt, the simple blue and white colors. The words “I Am” printed on the white fabric.

Those two words are the beginning of so many sentences. No. The beginning of so many stories. The start of stories, of feelings, secrets, who a person really is. But the fact that there are only two words on the shirt, not stories or secrets, was the cause of the salty water flowing down my cheeks. A person is never one sentence. They are more than stories. They are the beginning and end of books, of an entire series of books, they are filling up the pages by the second, but are not the millions of stories themselves, but the storyteller.

A storyteller isn’t the author, nor are storytellers the stories themselves. 

They are the combination of what stories they tell.

I am strong.

I am weak.

I am awkward.

I am introverted.

I am brave.

I am fighting back.

I am who I am.

I am a Hoot Owl