Let me just start by stating a fact most of us know to be true, being human is not easy. It might easily be the hardest thing I have ever had the misfortune of going through.
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I used to think of myself and all those around me as this indescribable creature that had these giant wings that were bound to make them fly anywhere they wanted and however they wanted. Turns out that was only my version of a perfect world. Turns out that this visionary creature that was my definition of humans was only just a teeny tiny part of them the better side of me refused to see.
See, I wasn’t always like this, so “cold and heartless”, in the words of my beloved mother. I wasn’t always this naive and, somewhat delusional. At least that’s how people see me. For those who truly know me, have spent time with me, know how I am as a person, they look at me different than anyone who’s only recently met me.
To those who do know me, I’m that “emotionless girl who never feels.. anything, neither sorry, nor sympathetic to any other struggling soul”. I don’t like to think of myself as that. I do feel. Quite frankly I feel much more than I intend to. But maybe that’s just how I am built to be.
See, it’s not always how it seems. I may come off as rude and selfish and cold, but trust me, I never intend to.
It’s almost like I’m two completely different souls merged into one body. What I appear to be to most fellow beings, is a gullible and callow young girl who knows nothing of the world and is perhaps, living in a bubble. But see, a bubble can pop. That’s the thing with bubbles, you blow out a bubble and you watch it fly, it’ll just be casually flying about in open air, without a care in the world, and you’ll be standing there watching it go in awe and then, without you ever really noticing, that bubble pops mid-flight. And there’s a shudder of disappointment that might go through your mind but you brush it off, because.. well, it’s just a bubble.
But see, my story is different. When they tell me that I’m ‘living in a bubble’, a part of me will believe them, but a part of me won’t, I might argue about how they’re wrong nevertheless, or I might stay quiet and not say anything.
But the thing is, the bubble I live in, has made home over a volcano. I do want to get out of that dreadful bubble because it has hold me captive, I’m aware that I am, in fact, a slave to it, but no matter how hard I try and how badly I want to break free, I know that I can’t. I know, because I’ve seen it happen before. Not to me, but to someone who I care about. See, if I somehow do manage to break free, it’ll be a lot like stabbing yourself in the foot with an axe. Yes, I will be free, I will have freed myself from that awful slavery of a goddamn bubble, and yes, I will have made it out alive, but would I have really?
Notice how I mentioned my bubble of a home flying over a oh so very deadly and oh so very alive volcano? Now, if I do manage to make it out, I’ll fall into a boiling monster of a lava waiting to devour me, and whatever will be left of me will have to quiver its way to its final annihilation.
So, in conclusion, I’m living my life in a constant battle between my two selves; the one that is trapped within a bubble, and the other that dreads whatever is to come it’s way after it breaks ‘free’ of it.
I guess I never really can be free, but maybe that’s just how far my imagination is taking me.
*** So, here’s hoping, that one day, someday, the universe will work together in conspiring to help me achieve my destiny, instead of dragging me against it. Maybe one day, someday, the wind will decide to come closer, whisper, “I’m proud of you” and then, using all of its force, will carry me away from the horrible, forever dreaded volcano, and then maybe – when I’m finally where I’m meant to be, the place that had been waiting for me all my life without me ever really knowing it, the trees will cheer for me, the autumnal leaves will hustle altogether as tribute to my undying courage, the dandelions will all dance together in celebration for I will have finally made it and the stars, oh the stars, they will all shine for me as they chant in unison;
“YOU MADE IT.”