[Not very upbeat]
I quit Instagram about a year ago. At some point, I just got tired of polishing my life on a regular basis. I started to think it’s pointless trying to live up to an image that does not always reflect the real you. When you take happiness as an accessory and then panic every time you drop it, you turn yourself into a slave, or an addict, or at least a chronic worrier. So yeah at that point I decided to drop it, my so-called pursuit for hyper-happiness every damn second and try to find hints of who I really am when no one is watching.
I used to have a pink aura, a sunny personality, and people describe me with always the word "energy". I guess I still do now, but in the pink there are a few grey dots. And amidst all the sunny, there are now some clouds.
I've turned into a lady with a bit more secrets and mysteries, and I think that’s pretty cool. I still push people away by default when I actually need them the most, then pride myself in managing to (look like) I'm attending to my own feelings and vulnerable moments. I think that’s strength. Or maybe not. Maybe it's the ego taking on the show. I don't know.
Then late nights, my mind ponders about the meaning of life, and often, the concept of death joins the game. Especially that day when my dear friend texted to inform me about the sudden death of her very sister. My mind couldn't function properly for the next few hours. My heart is with her and her family, and me.
Life is unfolding every day in its own way, full of surprises, magics and challenges to face. Accordingly, I keep evolving into a newer me. I’m not sure when I will run out of skins to shed if I keep changing at this pace. It’s a lie, saying I’m not afraid.
But I, am never, ever giving up or giving in.
I fight for what I believe, and what I want for my family and loved ones.
I do have a heart spread out for all the pain of the whole humanity, of the earth, and divinity.
I carve my mission in my heart and breathe it in every dream.
I’m still, still finding a way.
The lines above are actually too private to share. I wanted to hide them, but whatever.
I stopped comparing myself to others, a real good sign, isn't it? Oh yes I should even celebrate, the departure of such a habit that dominated me for decades.
I channeled my energy back to my own life, things I can do, places I must go.
The thirst for attention of my inner human self, subsides.
The thirst for other things emerges.
Doubt sorting is still a daunting chore, but journal writing has come in as a life savior for months and more.
A cactus flower bloomed, the very day I went for my birthday photoshoot.
Whispering through a thick wall, I'm finding my way out, fighting hard for my way through.
Maybe I should just slow down, maybe I should stop pouring my heart out.
Maybe there should not be that a lot of should-s.
Don't write from an open wound, some said. Looks like I'm not listening.
Is it a matter of filtering, or the world is really getting madder?
Who, When, Where, What, Why
A cactus flower.