I was wondering why people hated me for being myself, for being real in this judgemental world. Some saw the vibrant colors around, and others captured the hue of rainbows with their eyes, but as of me I saw nothing but dullness every time I open my eyes.
I saw someone crying along the road, tears dropping like droplets, her eyes were like stormy clouds amidst daylight. I asked her if she’s okay and she just simply gave me a nod while she’s not. I don’t know why she’s pretending to be alright out of her blue. It’s not bad to show and admit your emotions when you’re hurt. I don’t pretend to be okay when I’m not and will always show my emotions unti I saw the bad side of this world. The world is punishing me since the day I was born. I don’t find any solutions to any problem that comes along and they called me the “pessimist.”
I saw the universe as a void in figure. No stars twinkling, full of darkness. I’m not fond of walking beneath the sun rays of the sun, I preferred to watch sunsets at boulevard alone than having a company with others. Sunsets are beautiful as night began to fall. I love to hide in the blackness of the night for no one see me this way. I’m not sad, I preferred to be alone at one corner while listening in the echo of silence.
I don’t hate the world and people around me. I just don’t find them to blend with my personality. I don’t hate the colorful butterflies, it’s just that I love to watch the owls at the night. I’m not against the crowd, I’m at ease with own shadow and I find its solitude. I don’t see any reasons to be with in this unknown world. I’m sinking with isolation and being one but not hopeless. I love my own company and my own identity as me. This is me, and I was born to be this way and I don’t need to be a somebody who pretends to be not.