Time and time again, the world has made me hopeful. Just as many times has the world broken my heart.

The world can love me for who I am, and some parts of it do, but a majority of it hates the way I am

I hope and pray that I'll bring meaningful ideas into the world, but all my thoughts run away from me.

I try to write something fun and my own brain says no to that.

I will always be writing about subjects that keep me up at night. The world is the cause for some of that.

The world scares me and it holds my heart. How do you live when your home is at war?

No snow.

Winter is just a dream.

Why drink hot cocoa if you can just step outside to get warm.

A light jacket is all you need if it gets a little chilly.

The only time the weather is frightful is when it hits triple digits.

The only reason the roads are hazardous is potholes.

Shapes are an interesting thing in our society, from the shape of bodies to the shape of our planet, once upon a time. Something that I know that has no shape is my soul. It can take whatever shape that takes its fancy, but at other times will be formless. It can fit multiple shapes, but it does not need to be a conventional one, the way society likes. It would rather be a star or a hexagon, rather than the square box that everyone likes. I don't like it when I'm forced into a box that I don't fit. I may not know what my box is, but that means that nobody else can know better than I can. Only I can figure it out. Please let people find their little corner or edge of the world instead of forcing it on them.

Why does the valley fear the mountain?

The shadow it casts for miles?

The fate it decides

For all below it

The title of this project is The Valley. It is aimed at adults. This is only the first little bit of the song/poem so it is only about 20 words long. My name is Mollie Osinga, but I prefer Mino. My project is a good fit because it is gonna make people think and want to analyze it. The hook is written up top: Why does the valley fear the mountain? The synopsis is something I want the reader to figure out. I'm 21 years old and I am trying to become a writer. I am currently in college. My writing is often reflections on things that I have viewed or have had happen to me. Writing is one of my hobbies. I'd rather not talk about where I am from; too personal.

This gift cannot be bought in any store. It does not have a price. It has a heart that opened its arms to me. Opened its arms when it didn't have to. This gift accepted me as its own, and continues to love me despite the lack of blood relation. It makes me feel safe and warm. It looks on me with care and affection. One of my platonic soulmates is a part of it; someone who is as close as a sibling. It gave me a home. This gift is something that cannot be replaced. They're my extended family.

Living is hard to do. We can all agree on that. What do you do when you don't know what you want or know who you are? Do you just choose an identity, because yours was buried so deep below the surface that it might be gone?

These are questions I am always living with and they always send me down rabbit holes. I've thought before that I might be something, but I don't know because everyone always told me who I am. Do I have any say in who I am or have the right to know me? I don't know how to respond to situations normally because everyone always told me what to feel. I 'feel' through what others have told me about feelings. I was told how I was supposed to respond to certain situations and now my brain makes it out to as a box to be checked. 'I did the proper emotion. Are you happy now?'

I rarely get the chance to just exist for a moment to try and listen to myself. Apparently my brain thinks everyone knows me better than I know myself. And people expect me to know how to live by myself and with myself.