Everyone watches, judging. Knowing all its mistakes and misgivings. All decide what it should be, instead of what it is. It watches back, never knowing what to do, who to listen to. They say to be itself, while telling it what itself is supposed to be. It fears. It fears everyone and their egos. It hates their need to be in power.
         They tell it what do to with their eyes and theirs harsh mind. It can never be itself. It is always the it that others want, and yet no one's perfect vision of it. It can never please everyone. So it fears.
         It knows it can be itself, but it fears too much. Everyone is too powerful. It never learned that it must be itself, because they always watched. And they always judged. They always spoke with their gaze and their mind.
        They give it deep fears. Deep fears of their controlling eyes and their thoughts and their being. Always afraid of what it isn't, because it's never what they want. Deep fears of itself.





                                                                       *My deep fear of being myself.

Am I the little daydreamer? Am I the curious lion cub? Am I my true self? Will I ever be my true self? Does such a thing exist? I want to know what I am, what I will be, what I am meant to be. I want to know me. I want to be myself, not someone else. I want to be me and not be ashamed of being so. I want everyone to know me too. Then again, I want no one to know me. I want to know what I should and more. And I want to never be afraid to do so.

I live in both realities. One in the light, the dream, and one in darkness, the real world. The light is welcoming.  Here true happiness is achievable. True love exists. I can be happy with myself, and my attempts to do so aren't futile. The dark is cold but true. The real world. No one can ever be truly happy here. True love doesn’t exist, for one will always love too much and one will always love too little. Attempts for love are thrown away like nothing because here you are nothing, just like everyone else. The cold truth. Love isn't a gift, it's cruel and unforgiving. Most important, I will never be happy with who I am. I am nothing.