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Dec 2015
I looked through all the crap writings I did when I was 15
and one of them
had the phrase
"I am resurgent"
carved on it.

That was from
those days where
I havent realized that
I was
born to be an
anti hero;

Two years later I grew up
to be a vicious menace
and I deeply resented the way people around me manifested and projected their halcyon feelings of contentment in front of me because I was the only one who hasn't been able to feel those things amongst everyone I know.
I thought I could have been happier if I decided to redeem myself down as a hero but I
was
wrong.

No one will ever be a chaste saint nor a hero without desecration and it's alright that you won't ever be one because so won't I and all those premonitions of fright and dread will end once you've come to accept that maybe some of us were
born as anti-heroes
or
even
villains.

The visceral skies might be mad at me for I pushed people away by thinking that only drugs can make me smile and only my backup guys can save me and those skies were trying to warn me. If I seek for my knight in a shining armor just to use him as my escapist redemption to help me turn my back against everyone who claimed to love me then it's not love that I'm looking for; it's just revengeance towards the wrong people. The ferocious dissonance of black hole sun inside me hated the fact that everyone was happier than me and I was the only one who deserved headwind storm whilst everyone else deserved the sun.

Not everyone behaves generously all the time, some can turn into complete ******* including me and all those ****** up antiheroes and antiheroines who happen to be the unreliable narrators of the books I read. I have died a myriad of times after circumstances beat me up relentlessly until I choked on my pool of blood that tasted like the hard liquors that I got drunk on. At times I kept on dying for a long time and at times I resurrected but I didn't always resurrect into a better self and there were times I decided to reconstruct my past heroic self as a villain.

But I want to believe that I'm not all good nor all bad.

The caged princess valkyrie who used to wish she had a six-shooter gun, has been released from her cage and she now flies freely with her reconstructed wings to the vast iridescent-coloured visceral skies in order to reach the sun.

I am undefeated
eventhough I'm not.
Ralka Alice Fay Skjerseth
767
   --- and Derek Devereaux Smith
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