There are many days where I can't wait to be financially stable. I can't wait to break free from these binds. At the point where I am financially stable, I will finally able to walk the path I want.

I hunger for this empowerment. I'm sick of my dependence. Sick of my weakness.

Imprisoned by the sickness.

The little pieces of my life.

It's hard going home and knowing that home won't be here for long. Putting all those memories into the boxes feels awful. 

First my hamster, then my maid, the car, my family and lastly the house.

I feel as though this country has become a foreign land. Yet what can I do, but bid my goodbyes with a smile on my face. No matter how much I wish to, I can't turn back. I can't hang on to this feeling of nostalgia. I know I can't but I still do..

I am starting from scratch. And it's terrifying. I am all alone in this weird landscape I used to know. The things that I held on to now lay before my feet.

Spots on a blank paper are always glaring.

I cant seem to make the words come out.
 
This anger steals my voice and burns me from inside.


It's maddening to hear the flames licking my heart. These flames which I can't douse.


Anger, regret, despair, jealousy and doubt.

The flame feeds greedily. So gleeful in it's unsynchronised dance. 

I'm a captive robbed of any rights. I am a victim of my emotions and a visitor of failure. This flame torments me in it's ever burning light.


The phoenix always rises from it's ashes.
But I'm just me. 

I really hate my birthday. It's the loneliest day on earth.

It's that horrible day again. As usual, I feel depressed on this day where I should be celebrating.

But it is on this day that I am able to evaluate how well people think of me. And I don't want to evaluate it cause it hurts to know.

How could you

I have nothing to say to you except this.

You up there in your silver tower,

lament about sorrows of a five year old child.

And as you bawl, this silver tower of yours grows taller,

feeding on your decorative tears.

Now, you can't even see me down on earth.

Somedays, I wish I was a normal girl.

Yet, there are days when I'm proud of being an unconventional girl.

The contradictions of being human.

The days when I reject my nature is painful. True, there's no point in rejecting who I am, but it's hard when people speak ill of you.

Makes me just want to hide away.

But hiding away creates the problem of loneliness. Loneliness and being alone, they're different. After saying all this, I guess I just want some validation for being who I am from those who mock.

The days when I don't care are blissful.