buried in yourself

Did I ever love at all, if I held onto so much hatred of myself?

I thought about it too long; now I don’t want to go.

I need to trust my initial instincts. I always end up feeling like I’m not worth it. I always feel like I should make the conscious choice to sabotage and isolate, because that’s what I deserve, and that’s what everyone else wants. I don’t want to do that anymore. I owe it to myself to not do it anymore.

How people see you is something that is stressed as being so important: how you are perceived by others matters more than how you perceive yourself. After all, the opinions on a brand do not come from within the company but rather from its users.

But… I’m not a brand. I’m not a product. I am not to be consumed. I’m a human being, and that is too much to be packaged and swallowed so simply. I protest. I boycott. I refuse.

To live is to build my legacy inward. I accept the feedback of others, and I learn and reflect, but I do not let it define me.

Wasn’t it so much easier to be a child and care very little about what you appeared to be and what others think? Isn’t it so much easier to simply live with all your dreams and natural happiness that was gifted to you from birth? I think it is. I think it’s right. I will choose that.

I went back to my first thought. Now I want to go.


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