The Words.

Ever heard of writers block? Stuck Out of inspiration. Out of luck. Anyway it's not like anyone's gonna read your story so why bother wasting your words. Wasting them on some dumb-witted person who only desires a happy ending, someone who is easily appalled by the fucked up ways of life. Because what is life if not a series of messed up events.

But its the end of the line and you have a million things left to say, about the stars and the road, about passion and obsession, just not the right moment nor the right audience. Still I'm gonna let you know.

         'She led her days filled with a longing, a longing to leave something of her own behind, to amount to something for once in her life. Her life which had been a procession of yrs flying by in the blink of an eye, the disconnected family, the over-connected friends, the string of good grades and the dearth of anything else, lack of determination to reach long set goals and the sheer unproductivity of her soul. 

Only words could provide her the comfort everything else lacked. The feeling of achievement when a story reached a satisfactory ending couldn't be matched. The reading, re-reading and further repetitive recitations kept her brain occupied and working like a super speed engine. Just waiting to reach out to people, to find a little appreciation.
  
She often felt that words twisted themselves and found new meaning and with them she could become someone else. Someone so complicated only Sherlock could decode. It may not be easy but you'll want to know her, this mysterious person who has a world of her own. Each day with a new plot  and she was the star of it all.'

Words. Powerful little things. They give you the ability of manipulation and playing with people's mind. 

And she made them her own.