I feel powerless. Like I don’t control anything in my life. I’ve always been pulled and dragged along. And each time I resisted, I only hurt myself. I nod, I oblige, I follow. Because people always know better than me, it seems. Because they have certain expectations from me. And simply because, I must.
No questioning, no thinking, just doing-as-they-say.
Six months back, we moved to a new city. And even after so much time, I still feel sort of displaced. I still can’t accept the fact that this is home. This is where I live. I’m still wandering somewhere in the brick building of my school. I’m still thinking about home, and the people I left behind.
It was perfect. I never realized it then, but it was so perfect.
Life has been flinging me around like a rag doll. I’m tired. And life is just pushing and pushing. I don’t know for how long, till when, how much more…
I am writing this post because I have a new perspective now, maybe. If I may use a friend’s words, “Life will push and push you till the very edge… but maybe, maybe you are meant to fly?” I just know I need to go on, no matter what. I’ve come so far, and I can’t give up now.
Here, I had an opportunity to form a new identity for myself, to begin fresh. And I think I have done quite well. Though, sometimes, I feel like an impostor and ask myself, “Am I really this?”. But it hardly matters now.
I have learnt and discovered a lot of things in this place. I have realized what I am today, what is my worth at present, after years of my existence. Minus the past. Minus the people. Minus my different identities.
I can now understand people and not judge them. I can listen to people and not reproach them. I can deal with a lot of nonsense with much more patience than I could before. (and I think that makes me quite awesome, hehe)
Here, in this very place that I had named hell, right here, I have been able to discover and fix a small corner of my abyss of flaws.
This is my third post of the day, but as I said before, I’m simply bursting to write.