WELCOME TO REALITY

14 2 0
                                    


The airport was just as empty as I  had expected.

where had i come from? and why am i in an empty airport?   that's a question that should be left unanswered. Nevertheless I'll answer it anyway.

A long story is what it is , and a boring one too. One that no one would want to hear. So i will summarize it to the best of my ability. 

Once upon a time-about..... 9 months ago . A friend of a friend accidentally brought me here.  The End. 

When i met the angel of life i was given a manual book , with lists and lists of things that i should and should not do. Contracts upon contracts filled with expectations i had yet to meet.

I was told to not worry about my appearance until the age of 12 or 13, maybe later on in my fifteens' when i would be bullied about who i was. 

WELCOME TO REALITY , it read.

57 pages back to back filled with my exact weight measurements, what i eat,and how i present myself to others .

76 pages of messy handwriting angrily telling me to change my image to everyone's liking.

147 pages highlighted in neon pink stressing the importance of balancing who i will become and who i will hide away.

238 pages filled with the amount of people i will forget.

120 pages people i will grieve over.

100 pages of people i love.

50 pages of who i am.

20 of what i'm not.

10 of happiness.

2 of me.

And as i flipped back and forth recognizing the amount of standards that i struggled to accept . I might have to enter the world with nothing , and  leave with nothing. 

Empty words trying to own me. Sayings of a misfortune loner who decided that they were better than everyone else.

I took the book, amusingly tearing every page in half ,some more than others. Embracing the feeling of being rebellious and entered the airplane with wide arms and big smile.

For as to reality's mind of state was much more broken than its heart . The pages of its followed rules would be given blank to the next person. 

Whatever is written will not be copy and pasted on to the next. Because we are not robots to be controlled, were not dolls to be played with.

We're all a work of art- unique and expressed in its own way. Presented in amounts of millions and sold to be admired.

-----------------

HIIIIII READER

Thank you for taking the time to read.

Got a suggestion? Send it me :)

bye luv

R.E.


Mind Full Of TricksWhere stories live. Discover now