During the 19 years of my existence, I have slowly tried to compile what makes me, me. We have all been through a set of troubles that may differ from person to person but I believe we all experience similar outcomes.
Ever work super duper hard trying to build yourself up and then have someone come by and knock your walls down? Yes, I believe most of us have in some form or another.
I am not talking about love here but rather the act of constructing character. I am constantly trying to build a fortress of morals that I solemnly promise to abide by; being tugged here and there – it takes quite a few tries to distinctly choose what needs attention and what does not.
This fortress of mine, I hold it very dear to my heart. I dare not tear it down unless my heart and mind collectively agree. Some pieces of architecture take months to perfect while others take one single moment in time. In all, I try my utmost best to be the best human being I can possibly be.
Earlier this year, I was called “fake” in short. It may seem like the stupidest thing to be posting about but hey, no one is stopping you from exiting this browser. Being called fake literally shattered me into pieces, completely.
My efforts in sending uplifting messages to those whom I knew, my efforts in biting my tongue to avoid arguments, my efforts in waving my issues aside to deal with another’s, my efforts in caring for myself second, all of that, it was all a ‘joke’.
It was during an argument that this statement of being fake was thrown in and hey, I understand that I could have been inconsiderate, disrespectful, stubborn, etc. in the moment but to label an entire lifetime of clean stitched wounds and those still healing as worthless, is a bit rough.
Those wounds of mine, man were they burning but through it all, I apologized for any inconvenience and tried my absolute best to leave the situation in the best manner possible. I dared not to feel upset and hold a grudge so I again, pushed my crazy wave of emotions aside and dealt with the issue on hand. Yes, I did take responsibility of my actions but till this day, the idea of being fake still haunts me.
Not even ‘fake’, it is the tumbling of my fortress that I have tried, oh so hard to create, leaving my heart wrenched. So why bring up something that happened ages ago? Well, a message earlier tonight reminded me of it because maybe, just maybe this message was treading along the same route as the other.
Whatever the case, it kind of sucks. Not many really, REALLY, know me; counting on one hand, no more. So when people catch glimpses of my actions and draw gigantic essay paper kind of conclusions about myself as a whole, honey, you do not know enough about me to say anything.
I do what I do with a reason behind it. I am not saying that my reasoning is always a great one but I do not live life meaninglessly. My fortress has boundaries, regulations, and most importantly, danger zones. If I feel discomfort pursuing something, expect me to terminate moving forward. The opposite alike, if I feel confident in something, expect me to climb over mountains.
Okay, enough about me, I do not want to bore you. Please do leave this entry with one thing though: continue doing you. Hustle till your mind sores folks, hustle till your mind sores.
Take care and keep smilin’