I never knew what would become of me during this stage of my life.
As I look around to the material possessions around me, I realize I truly have done nothing.
Every time I walk into this room, I am surrounded by the things I thought defined me.
Such thing I once thought important, I no longer have attachment too...
The welcome mat by the front door shows visitors are welcome but as we all know, that is not true.
I introduce myself into a lie even before someone walks through my door, who does that?
People trust me when they enter my home as those individuals assume my home would caring and loving which it is not because that welcome mat was there when I bought this place.
There was never any intention to have anyone enter my domain.
People, I do not like people thus the reason for so much isolation.
I never understood this need to stay away from others, it just existed since long before I had control of my thoughts.
Where would such a thing come from?
Nothing around me defines me, not even the pictures on the wall.
The people that are in those images within the frames existed upon purchasing them.
They are those fake people that display how your image would look within this wooden rectangle.
Those people are meant to show a symbol of happiness that I never have felt.
Their smile was not forced and their laughter was heard even when no audio was attached.
That was and is true happiness and as I look at the white walls that begin enclose around me, that laughter fills my ears which only I can hear.
My thoughts, my fears, my space...
I did everything right to get to this point.
Completing what society thinks I should do in order to be successful by getting the education and getting that paper, I did that.
My peers told me I did what was expected of me so well that I never caused any trouble but I am trouble.
That piece of paper, I did was was needed to get that paper a few times in order to find what others would call the perfect job in order to get all of this "stuff" that surrounds me.
This stuff is nothing but emptiness and only exists to fill the void of this space.
At night, the only light that breaks the surrounding darkness is that of the computer screen, the one I am on this very moment to type this very thought.
A simple thought, which could only exist in a simple dream because I have no one.
All of the education, the career, the car, the gadgets, the kitchen, the bedroom, all of that and I have no one to share it with.
Why is that?
Am I not one that people find attractive?
Beauty is not what people see but what people are expected to see because I believe, beauty is a myth.
A myth, something people believe but does not really exist.
I am surrounded by everything to make one such as me what society would call beautiful.
The face is painted to the elegance that plasters the covers of magazines.
The hair is large yet conservative to show I am serious in what I plan on doing with my life but know how to take care of myself.
My body is toned and created to be in the image of that beauty that walks the run way every moment of every day.
Society wanted me to be this way and I am....
So why am I alone?
I write this simple thought as someone who lives above the busy city looking down at the "ants" below.
They weave in and out of the madness that is created by the masses and they follow this ritual every day.
No one knows why we do what we do, it is just done because it is all we know how to do.
Some people find happiness in each other, others like me, find what they assume is happiness by themselves.
I sit here in front of the computer in the best clothing I own.
The most expensive red dress and dark shoes.
In all the diamonds and ruby's one girl could fit on her body and I feel empty.
I do not want to do this any more, I do not want to be this person that is expected to be perfect.
I do not want to be this being that lives in a society with the rules that governs their very existence.
All I want is to have all the things that surround me to show who I am and who I was meant to be.
Material possessions should not define you yet my peers think it does.
I was told to believe in this lie but somewhere, deep down inside, I know it is wrong.
Looking behind me at the open window, the thought crossed my mind to end it all right now....
But what would that accomplish?
The pain will stop but the memory of who I was would not change.
Everyone would be fighting over the things that I once owned in order to gain those items for themselves.
No one would mourn my loss because people are fighting to get to where I am in my building, in my career.
This body that I posses is only a image of what society wants us to be, perfect and obedient.
At this moment, I am telling you I will no longer be who you want me to be.
I will be what I want to be...because now I know what it takes to be happy and it is not what surrounds me.
This is only a thought and not a novel.
I am not asking for someone to read this and try to understand me because no one can understand me.
The thought of knowing someone and actually being that person is two separate things that in order for one to know thyself, they have to let go of what others expect of them.
Tonight is the last night I will wear this dress or put on this mask.
This is the last night I will be surrounded with what money can buy and pretend that I am happy.
I am not happy.
This is not a suicide note or something to tell you I am giving up, it is just a way for me to fully understand what is going on in my life.
I want to be remembered not for what I posses but for what I am and I feel in order to do that, I need to go far away.
The idea of a restart sounds like a way for me to learn from what I did and do it differently.
There is never a true restart button but in order for me not to fall back on the wickedness I have created, I have to leave the city that never sleeps.
Good bye dear city and all the noise.
I will miss everything you have given me, even in the darkest times.
The teachings I have learned will never be forgotten but I think it is time for me to go in order to finally be what I was meant to be.
This is a goodbye but never a forever.
I will be back but I guarantee you will not like me.
No more fancy things or expensive cars, I am ready to find the little things in life that make up for what money tries to represent.
I am only writing what is on my mind, nothing more should be expected from these words.
Just a way for me, a simple gal to understand what it means to be free, what it means to be "me".
-The One Who Woke Up