the_pessimist_by_xetobyte-d6jmk17

She couldn’t breathe or move. The air seemed to suck itself in and out but lost its voice. Her eyes wide open, she continued to stare at the walls of her room. The walls that once brightened up her day now only made her claustrophobic. The walls that once became her canvas when needed remolded themselves into lifelong fears trying to reach out for her. Her eyes blinked accepting all the cruel realities that she had once unknowingly painted yellow. The tinge of purple amidst the yellow abstract of realities gave in and faded away with each tear that fell across her face onto the satin sheet.
Glued to the bed, with her hair spread around the pillow she let out a sigh of relief. Unsure of the extent of her dawdling indecisiveness she was unable to tell between the sigh of relief of pain and the uncertainty itself. Pain because the satin felt like thorns piercing deep into her flesh and the indecisiveness because her hair strands entangled themselves into knots with the false predictions. Meanwhile, being uncertain because she knew that nothing except from her existence was real, she secretly gave in to her predictions because only she understood and acknowledged the beauty of owning them.

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A person is a reflection of his past. Today as she walks through these streets, which lead to her destiny that is far from where she stands, she feels empty. Empty because she fails to untangle all the stories lying beneath her skin. She fails to understand who she really is. Life is not a fairytale. There are no happy endings or flying unicorns. Instead every story starts in the most magical way, which leads you into believing in fantasies. The ends are mostly tragic. You lose to your own fate. We all have inferiority complexes. Those who hide are named as arrogant and conceited rascals with no humanity and the ones who can’t, you name them as losers and cowards. She is still trying to figure out what she wants to be called. A normal person would call her a pessimist for even thinking about all this but is that it? She had a troubled childhood, dirty teenage and a messed up school life. She was a complete mess and so were the people around her. Do you not expect her to be surrounded by fears when her third grade friends are a victim of incest, when her entire life lies were trusted more than the bitter truths while bullying someone was being considered cool and in the end when her family gave up on her because the society mattered more? Yes most of us walk around with fears that are left untold and so did she. As she walks through these streets, totally strange to her where the lights flicker, completely shut down and at some point are brighter than ever. That is what life is. It is never constant. She too had happy moments in her life but she rejected them all because misery always pacifies and happiness evanesces. That is the reality of life. We are left alone to battle with our own selves to find the real purpose of the little humanity you are left with. But then again unlike her a few of us are lucky enough to not face any trouble at all to outcast this dark shadow of misery that follows us during the day and then finally takes over during the night leaving us to fight with our own selves and cry in agony, but all in total silence because the fears are always meant to stay within ourselves.

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