Why

Why is it that to be myself I must disappoint the whole world? Why does my honesty feel like a crime I’m bound to receive punishment from?

You see I’m not trying to hurt anyone, I’m merely tired of having 3+ profiles on every platform, trying to please every person I come by, condemned to exist behind thousands of masks, each more false than the last.

I create my personas like a desperate actor facing an indifferent audience, hoping one of them could be acceptable, begging to be seen in my true form, truth is I’m far from that. The only person I’m trying to deceive is myself. Hoping for a day that maybe just maybe I won’t be afraid to be the person I’ve always been craving to become. Me.

Someone who doesn’t have to dread about paranoia. Too carefree to worry her mind with silly thoughts of the world plotting against her.

Perhaps there are two possible endings for this; 

the mere dream that one day I could be as free as a dove -even though the only bird I can relate to is a penguin, a creature born with wings but condemned to the ground, mocked by the sky it can’t reach ,surrounded by it’s kind but still, unbearably isolated from the world -

Or; something very awful will happen to me. Nothing dramatic, but quiet and ruinous .The kind that eats your soul while the world looks away, unaware that anything was ever there at all.