Sometimes, I blame the stars I ponder the possibility of their alignment being so twisted on the day I was born Searching for an explanation
Sometimes, I blame my parents Perhaps the concept of never being good enough, of which they poisoned my brain with, was not just a concept but in fact the truth all along
Sometimes, I blame my teachers I consider the reinforcement of said concept being pushed down my throat during my years in education Never good enough to succeed Never good enough to be loved
Sometimes, I blame God No, Iām not religious, but the desperation to know the unknown consumes my entire being until I am pushed towards yet another unknown
Sometimes, I blame society For worshipping such unattainable standards of beauty that one forgets the true meaning of the word What does it mean to be beautiful? What does it mean to be loved?
I never blame myself. Because I know that is where the answer lies and it terrifies me.