Dec 2014
Every day I would wake up to a life full of hatred. I could not glance at myself without wanting to smash all of the distorted images in the mirror.
Society made me feel as if I was a ripped corner piece of paper in a novel with coffee stains and leaked ink.
I felt as if everything I said or did would come back to haunt me in the long hours of the night; that some day I would not wake up because while sleeping in a cold bed, the images in my corrupted mind would make me feel so much better than the real world.
They were right about me all along.They would knock me down and drag my heartstrings all around until I was nothing but a beating pulse in someone else's ego; they were right.
And I used to tell myself that I was everything they said I would become and that the only place I'd end up would be in a 6 foot grave dug by my own memory of loss and pain.
But, as time grew longer and as I met people wiser, I realized that not only was the judgment that they were making wrong, but also, they were the ones who looked into that distorted mirror and cried because their life was nothing they wanted it to be.
They would be the ones lying in bed with hopes of falling back to sleep because their thoughts were more alive; more truthful in their head.
That day, I woke up to find myself staring at a beautiful figure in the mirror; one with many scars and faults. That day, I accepted that I was beautiful; that I was supposed to be alive in this world. I was to make others feel good about themselves so that they would not feel as I once did.
That day, I picked up that tattered book and I began to read it. All the details and the emotions. That book may have been a horrible thing to look at at first glance, but the minute you open it up, you will read the most beautiful story in the world. And that story; that story, is all about you.
Society made me feel as if I was a ripped corner piece of paper in a novel with coffee stains and leaked ink.
I felt as if everything I said or did would come back to haunt me in the long hours of the night; that some day I would not wake up because while sleeping in a cold bed, the images in my corrupted mind would make me feel so much better than the real world.
They were right about me all along.They would knock me down and drag my heartstrings all around until I was nothing but a beating pulse in someone else's ego; they were right.
And I used to tell myself that I was everything they said I would become and that the only place I'd end up would be in a 6 foot grave dug by my own memory of loss and pain.
But, as time grew longer and as I met people wiser, I realized that not only was the judgment that they were making wrong, but also, they were the ones who looked into that distorted mirror and cried because their life was nothing they wanted it to be.
They would be the ones lying in bed with hopes of falling back to sleep because their thoughts were more alive; more truthful in their head.
That day, I woke up to find myself staring at a beautiful figure in the mirror; one with many scars and faults. That day, I accepted that I was beautiful; that I was supposed to be alive in this world. I was to make others feel good about themselves so that they would not feel as I once did.
That day, I picked up that tattered book and I began to read it. All the details and the emotions. That book may have been a horrible thing to look at at first glance, but the minute you open it up, you will read the most beautiful story in the world. And that story; that story, is all about you.
