The Prissy, The Monster and The Puppet
Sunday, April 21, 2013
IN THE BEGINNING
I almost cried myself to sleep but I stopped.
I shouldn't.
Crying would only give me puffy eyes and a throbbing headache when I wake up. I know it would help but I'd like to keep everything in, torturing myself every second. Trying to deny and struggle with my contradicting thoughts. I'm not good in making decisions. I pretty much just made a journey of mistakes here and there, faking every smile just so I could face the world with pride. I want the world to see that I can stand up for myself, I can stand up more for my decisions.
I almost made a call but I didn't.
I don't want to bother anyone.
This is between me, myself and I.
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| I do not own this photo. |
THE PRISSY
It's one of those qualities I have that I am most proud of. I am selfish, especially with my struggles. I don't wanna make a scene, I don't want people to pity me and pretend to help me. Most people will just act like they sincerely care when all they're really capable of doing is munch on my misfortunes, quoting words that never came from my mouth and make me worse than what I really am.
I bully myself.
I have been my own worst enemy.
Always been knowledgeable about the difference between right and wrong, I never really chose the obvious right for most times for unlikely reasons. I have this lame excuse to choose whatever other people would like to do or say just so I can blame them if I ever did follow them. I seldom take responsibility for my own mishaps, pointing fingers here and there, looking for someone to get angry to. I resist the urge to look at myself in the mirror. Just because I can see the very soul of a monster trapped in a life of "perfection and meeting everyone's expectations".
THE MONSTER
I am a walking disappointment.
The epitome of dashed hopes.
Secluding myself with walls of comfort, I never took the full leap to risks. Picture this, I'm standing between the tower of safety and the pillar of risks. The tower of safety is a very rigid structure, standing with pride. The pillar of risks is a moving building, with a constantly changing pace of swirling slowly and sometimes quickly towards the haven of success and the inferno of failure. My left foot is steadily put on the floor of the tower of safety. I never really took the leap to the pillar of risks. I put my other foot on the pillar of risks. The pillar of risks kept moving. Maybe not later, my legs will go on a split, breaking every bone I have until I fall to the pit of shame.
THE PUPPET
The victim. Torn between the evils of her imagination. Working like a puppet in a string. Sometimes clueless, sometimes know-it-all. Allowing ruthless people to pull up the strings. Accepting the love less than I am capable of giving. A battlefield of qualms and ironies. An unheard voice. A soul trapped in the bloods of fake love. With cuffed hands, I can only hurt someone with words. Waiting to be understood. Needing a love that's pure and real.
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