I was climbing a mountain along many others. I was slow, but kept my pace. Many cared not, for I was but a lurker. But when I started getting good at it, they seem to notice. Some even tried to copy my way of expression. Not many followed my path, so my word was weak. I could not expose such treachery. Neither could I continue, as my way would be stolen so many times, that I would end up in the shadow of a copy, my former "self".
I am leaving this mountain. I am leaving my tracks.
But I will cross paths with them again. When I am ready.
But for now.
I am ash.