¶BRIGHT [Z.M] (on pause)

1.4| Wanna Be Your Good Girl.

song - coming to my senses by alina baraz.

[zayn]

Having more power than a regular man and still feeling so small and invisible was one of the best ways to stress me out. With one call I can turn someone's life into a nightmare or save them from the deep end. Not illegally, of course. But the thing is when you have this much control you can't really cope with yourself. There's no one better than you in your own category so there really are only two options. When you finish your path too early you either develop a God Complex or level up. But who does that? When you hit the top you don't want to start from the bottom in order to evolve into something better.

I have to make a choice.

Do I want to become the person I fear or do I want to be nobody?

My eyes moved to the glass in my hand, the dim lights making the hard alcohol seem brownish than gold. Twirling the rock glass, I watched the beverage hitting the walls as the sound filled the silent room.

When you couldn't see crystal clear and didn't have experience, shit looked different. It tasted the same, but from one point of view, it seemed golden, the best thing in the world. But from a different angle, it was brown... it didn't have any worth, it was just another execrable act. The taste was still the same, it felt the same... well, not really. Of course, you being the best tasted better, seemed better even. But then if someone else was way ahead of you it tasted like shit, seemed worth being sorry for yourself.

Us people, we are jealous. We want what we don't have but when we get it we feel taller than the trees... for a few days. Then we're back to wanting the next thing, we are consumers after all. And when you keep feeding yourself with the shit people create, your self-esteem gets bigger and bigger. Until you feel way more superior than God himself.

But you can't take the glory to the grave.

Of course, some of us prefer to live inside four walls. No people, no media, no chemicals. Just the true you. Closing the door to the harsh reality and keeping the two-faced out of your own world so you can spread your colors, speak your mind and work on your health but then you're not one of them. You're nobody because you've got only yourself. No one knows you, no one cares about you. So you become one more experiment for society. You are just another dumb mouse inside those four walls.

But then your head is empty, your house is silent.

Well, you have to choose. Be alone forever, die as nobody. Or fill your head with voices telling you who to be and how to act, live in glory, and again, die as nobody. None of us are mentally stable because if we were there would be something in between. We would be living in peace with ourselves and the outside world. But I don't have that option yet.

A sigh stumbled out of my mouth filling the room before leaving an echo, disappearing back into the silence. The beverage was still untouched in my hand. I knew the taste of it and I didn't like it. It was just another substance to burn my tongue, and I was so done with it after consuming it for ten years to hold myself back from finally speaking a word to society.

Leaving the glass of whiskey on the sofa table I stood up, hands moving to my sweatpants pockets. Glancing over the magazine on my coffee table I moved towards the glass wall with a view of my front porch.

I didn't have a harsh childhood, if anything I'm glad I was left at that shelter to be chosen by my new parents. They provided me with anything and everything I needed. I'm grateful I was able to graduate college and more or less, I'm thankful for my friends back then. If it wasn't for them I wasn't going to shape the way I am. But I archived a lot since my early twenties. And I'm still all new to this bullshit - giving interviews for popular magazines, having my picture on the front cover, and being followed by the goddamn press.