𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝗺𝐞

𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝗼𝐫𝐥𝐝, 𝐌𝐲 𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞, 𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐞

Do not judge by appearances, but judge with right judgment- John 7:24

Palms sweaty,
my head racking, back and forth, the pain
from it going a million miles per hour.
My heart beats, pounding.
My only solution? To go home.

Not to the home where I fight with my siblings
and brag about my parents' food, but the home where I can plug in my earbuds. The home where I can be around so many people and still feel alone.
The home where I'm not weak because I cry, but strong because I'm not afraid of my own feelings.

When I'm in my world, I'm in my own bubble.
I don't like being disturbed, but being alone too long makes me insane. It makes me feel happy.
No, not a happy like, wow-OMG!-puppies-and-kitties happy.
A happy where I feel normal and alive.

A place where I don't have to please anybody
or care if somebody broke a nail, or literally like! Can't even!
I don't have to feel like everybody's against me, or feel like I'm against everybody

It seems like a fairytale, doesn't it?
If only the real world was this easy.
If only people weren't judged because of their race, or religion, or even the way they speak
or from where they come.

Every single day about 150,000 people die.
We always think we're better than everyone else.
It's like once you're gone, they suddenly stop judging you, and instead, say how much they loved you.
Was the world always like this?
Were people always so narrow-minded?

The world isn't all puppies and rainbows. I wish it was, but unfortunately life isn't like my world. Things seemed so easy and I'm able to be free, free to think, free to do and to say as I want. But in this pitiful world, I can't do as I want.
Nobody can.

My palms have shaken up.
My head is at ease.
I'm putting on the music.
Life seems a breeze.
All in my world, in my fairytale, in my bubble.