We’ve all heard it. We’ve watered it. And it’s grown, and it’s growing faster than innovation. It is the voice of destruction. The one who wants to kill you. The one who will stifle you, and choke you to death without justice.
I’ve listened to it whine, all my life. It’s told me how senseless I am. That I’m too dumb to ever be taken seriously. I am too weird to ever have a meaningful connection. I am too abnormal, no body could care less if I spoke or not. It said, I might as well blend in with the bland wall and disappear. Worse still, no one would notice if I’m gone.
For a long time I committed to it, it’s presence was seethingly stark in my earlier works.
Most days, I tried to reason with it, I accepted it, then I pleaded with it. Then, I just disappeared like it told me to.
For a very very very long time, loneliness was in the air I breath, it was all I wrote about.
It wasn’t up to me, it wasn’t in my power. I began to realise how innovative I could be, then how fierce I am.
I’m weird, I know and nothing can take that away.
Nothing, not even you, the darkest side of my psyche can conquer me. I fight everyday to know my worse self, for only then can I truly destroy the bitch.
Once I had my wings broken, now I’m clawing my way out of darkness.
Letting myself know that I’m stronger for being weak.
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