chapter-3-powerless

Are we? Are we really?
I like to think that we have some control over certain things, but sometimes I myself feel powerless. Sometimes I feel like I need superpowers to pass through the day. 
I won’t lie and say that there weren’t ties when I was wishing that I had some kind of superhuman abilities (mostly due to religiously watching “Charmed”) but obviously that effort wasn’t worthwhile.
When I’m down and out, hurt by so many injustices, by people’s actions and words, I don’t know how to get back up again. I wait until it goes away, as it always does when I least expect it. That is the only thing I have learned to trust over the years.
Do I wish to change things, to influence someone, to be able to do things that affect the outcome of my life?
I feel powerless when I don’t write, when I don’t have anything to say, anything to add to a conversation, to an action, a thought, when it just gets passed me without stinking to me.
Is it always night? Is it dark? I know better by now, at least I like to think I do. Sometimes power jus falls into your hands. It’s what you do with that that matters.
Do we sink, or do we stay afloat? Do you fly or walk the ground like most people?
It’s mostly up to you. You already have the power in you, you just don’t see it. That’s is why when I fall, get dissappointed in life in general, or just don’t feel worthy, I always fly afterwards, and I have not sunken once (because my ego keeps me afloat, but another issue for another time). The power withing me takes over, driving me to safety, taking me away from the shore after my ship sank. 
Your voice matters. Your actions matter. You matter.
Nothing will ever black you out if you don’t let it. The only ones who can make you feel powerless is you. 

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