The unfinished letter

imagesHere I am again like on my old days at that cold library floor sulking my dreariest hours only to find myself cowering all the bravery left within me. With a pen in hand tapping on that paper, I stare mindlessly on those opened books circling around me. Two books on psychology, one history and the rest on art and literature including a world geography. The librarian hesitant to approach swiftly troll on the alley of math books ahead of me and left without a word. I closed my eyes and let the breeze tease my hair but before I totally sank into emptiness and detach myself from reality, I heard that loud thumping of my heart beating so fast. My chest is gripping tight that I could just gasp in every breath I take. The once clear vision clouded with tears flowing endlessly down to my cheeks. No, there’s no sobbing, only the silence dominated the array of bookshelves as there are no shadows casted near me.  A pause on that minute hand seemed too long as followed by a stern why. One question with a thousand answers but ended up not quite helpful. I cannot understand why I can make people smile but I cannot do it to myself. That moment I decided to ask the world but I ended up with a lined dear and never finished. I lost track of those weights I added on my shackles to hold me down yet as I find harder to drag them I developed patience and acceptance.
I may have walked on stone pavements I never felt nor breathed freely on those years. I have wounded myself repeatedly of which I never thought would heal. The mantra of the same circumstances is boundless impossible to break until that moment I let myself fall. What’s down that cliff or is someone there to catch me? I don’t know, the perfectionist that once shielded  me snapped out and there was nothing but uncertainty. The deeper I sank the darker it goes but when I looked up, the starts did not vanish nor glimmer less. They remained beautiful and so goes my scarred soul.
At the end, I can only thank the world for letting me know that I am not alone. I maybe commemorating the same experience but I already unlocked those cuffs and they won’t stop me in thriving hard on making the most of what’s left. Perhaps I shall finish it off with:

Dear world,
I had been on a constant battle with myself of which I’m estranged to. It sucks to screw things over and over again despite the fact that answers are easily given but hard to understand. Being caught up on a lot of mess had trampled my dignity that I myself can’t pick it up. Death has never chased me when I yearned for it. The question of why I have to suffer and struggle so much had kept me hanging on the grid of getting lost. Yet on those times, I found the beauty of the world. The serenity, the generosity and love from strangers had held me and kept me from falling off.
As much as the world is dull and gray, colors still make their way and so is happiness. Hope is something I learned to kept burning above everything else and so I was able to smile on closed curtains for what is a better stage to perform at your best on any circumstance other than the world itself. Living is kind, so live your life with generosity.

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