Into the mere mortal abyss, I send thee.

“I don’t want to be a cheerleader no more.” – St. Vincent

Have you ever felt that the things you believed in the past 20 years of your existence were mostly fabricated? Well, I have. That overwhelming sense of fear that washes you up like a tidal wave. That extreme uncertainty beating in your heart, throbbing as if the lies you were meant to believe in were non-existent. As if the troubling waves of confusion resonates itself against the beating of your heart. The same heart which gave everything in pursuit of your ideologies. Trust me. Nothing can compare to this unsettling realization from which stirs confusion and bewilderment.

Only recently have I strongly decided to take a risk. To randomly turn left at a crossroad. To willingly separate myself from whom I was made to believe. I have turned down my dream. Devastating as it may sound, it is for the better as I’m creating a dream from the trash and scraps of the old one. Ingenuity as what most people call. Cowardice for some. But I say, hope.

To learn about myself is one thing. To find out who I am is another. I have been alive for  more than 2 decades, and I still keep asking myself what kind of person I am. I was brought up to believe certain traits and values that I possess. I appreciate believing in them. They created me. They molded me. These beliefs. Ideologies. I have a sense of who I am. However, this notion of myself is fairly transparent. Hallow. I can only trace out the edges. Edges that were the ideologies I was made to comply. I do not regret following such strict regime. They design me. But, I have realized that it is up to me to fill in the blanks. To color myself. To put this blueprint into life. Into technicolor.

People say I am in a tender age. Others beg to differ. I say, I’m in the purgatory of growing up. I am in limbo. That bridge that connects a child to a grown up. I am in place. It is misty. Foggy, even. Everything is unclear. Uncertain. Fear looms over each and everyone of us. Millions, billions of people are in the same realm, however, none of us can fully distinguish one from another. It is complete chaos. Shadowy figures emerge from the corner of our eyes. From the corner of my eye. I turn around. Nothing, just a misty haze. It is only gray. There is no pure definition of black or white. All of us are walking aimlessly trying to find a way out. Out into the abyss of the unknown. All of us willing to escape. To find a way out. Racking our brains. Clawing out the information we need in order to get out. It is all mind-boggling, I say. People question what lies ahead. A brave few have stepped out and never came back. We know not what happened to them. We only hear of good stories. Stories that fuel our inspiration and creativity. We want to get out, but how?

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