I dare to be happy. I challenge myself against my own to conquer whatever it is on my way. It is like I am a bandit of my entity. A wave of zombies approaching towards the battle. I am the protagonist of my own play and at the same time, I am its antagonist; the villain of my own film. Either ways, in the end, it will still be all about me.
Acceptance and rejections. It all comes in different persona. A paradigm of what you call defining what makes you grow up, what makes you don’t. I deal with my being afraid and unafraid. I give my everything without the benefit of a doubt. I always thought, there is nothing wrong with taking the risks, as long as I don’t regret it. But life is matter of irony. It seems easy yet so difficult to deal with. When everything seems not enough, that’s when you fall down. That’s when you fall back. It’s obscure to be strong and it feels easy for me to get frail. I am fragile and yet I build my own foundation. I cry easily and I hardly move on. Sometimes, I think about sensitivity as a curse. As well as a gift. And I want to find the underlying truth on how I can be a better individual.
All I ever wanted is as simple as grade one mathematics. To be seen in and outside my world. To be accepted wholeheartedly. To make the world smile. To be hugged by the clouds. To have a peace of mind. To be respected as a woman. Without shame and cruelty. To be loved unconditionally. What every girl dreams of. But this reality. Fortunately, analysis is not the only way to resolve inner conflicts. Life itself still remains a very effective therapist.
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