I've lost some piece of myself. I could die missing those days where emotions were my company, my strength, my drive and my identity. I could collapse from chasing over my past. I would want to, for the blessing and curse of having to feel delicate feelings that are all around but ignored by many. It's the kind of aching in the heart that are both beautifully pleasant and painfully hurt. How do even these two paradox takes place in one reality?
I've put away some of my identity for that it doesn't fit with the norm. I was never someone who want to comply to societal, cultural or any sort of norms. But I guess when I had my only choice of fitting in or isolation, I've chosen the former.
I am not as burning. Not fiery as I used to be, not a dragon ball. Not a naive, maybe an innocent but improving. I was younger, taking many exploratory steps with a pinch (or a mountain) of idiocy. Maybe braver now, but not as bold.
Still broken but working hard to stand up again. I dont have much hope to life than I used to have. Trying to be more normal than ordinary. Maybe this time, God, let me just have peace and happiness.