Another Month Passes By

Time never stands still. I haven’ t got any moment to hang on to that I will cry over yet another month to pass by. In fact, I’m glad that it’s over. Because that month had been one of the craziest, weirdest and literally pain in the neck. I know fate has never liked me and since I’m already up all night and working my brain out on the first day of the month, I’m getting a very sweet and innocent view of how my luck and fate and nature have summed up together to screw me up.
But, nevertheless, it’s one beautiful, not so much as quiet, slight cold breeze and rainy feeling and a tiny little hope with a laptop on my pillow kind of morning. It’s nothing a good, ol’ fresh coffee can’t shoo away. May be this little pain in the back for sitting upright all night through is a good sign that May is going to keep me standing on my two left feet. However, I have always walked one step ahead of my luck and although it’s disgruntled me many times, recently it has grown a soft corner for me and my pity.
And I fully intend to work that up because it’s not always that luck is very happy with me. So this brings me a little new hope of good will and passion for working harder and walking slower. Because running will make you fall. And if I fall, I doubt if I can stand up. So with a warm heart and tired bones, I welcome May in my life.

P.S.

image

Please, be nice to me.

Stalker Boy Is a Distanced Past But The Society?

  My life is like a wonderful bliss. Even though some disagrees, sometimes even my judgement. But I know the truth and the truth is although controversial, it’s one of my dreams coming true. I grew up in a reserved environment,so I know the freedom to open space. And when you finally get it, it’s normal you’ll want to fly. But I kept my wings a little lower, sometimes pushing it, but flying low. It’s not everyday you get to enjoy the little breeze or the bee sitting on a purple flower. It’s not everyday you get to walk in the rain; let alone dancing in it. But what I see is, if I’m walking, I am as well as taking a little chance in trying to learn how to skip a step. So what I can’t enjoy that little breeze or the bee, I can hear the soft murmur in my mind. I can imagine that flower in the wild. It wouldn’t be all that fun but it at the least would serve the purpose.
However, life doesn’t stop. It goes on and surprises us with its little quarks. The intention behind my saying this is that my little stalker monster has decided to back off. I can say it for two reasons.
One, he has finally got the message that I’m ignoring him.
Two, he read my previous blog.
Well, I can’t guarantee any one of them but life now seems to be sweetest ever. I know there is a possibility of him reading this. But really I don’t care. I have never cared in all my life for people that I hate. It doesn’t matter what they think, it doesn’t matter what they say. I have liberty. I can do what I want. Say what I want.
It’s not about him. It’s about the freedom that a girl wants in every spheres of her life. It’s about being able to walk without have to think twice. It’s about laughing and knowing that you are not being stalked. Like a flower blooming in its full petals and touch others with its sweetness but not being plucked. Is it so hard to leave people be?
It’s not really. If you could let your stalking mind to a rest.
It’s your inner demons that make you so dangerous, so desperate. If you can fight them, your goodness will prevail. No man is born bad. It’s how they grow up, it’s what they see before their eyes, it’s what they are taught. So if we take a little leap of faith, these society can change. The subconscious of these people could change. Just a little step of changing our views, our morals, our environments. One voice can rise many. One step can gather many. One mind can change lots of others. All we need is initiatives. To protect our girls. To protect our society. To protect ourselves. To protect our future.
So that when my little girl goes to bed some years later, I can be assured that she will sleep safe. She will go out there, win hearts and return home without any hindrance. There will be no one trying to scare her, no one trying to snatch her on her way to her destination. She wouldn’t have to look back to be assured that no one is following her. And I can be at my home, relaxed instead of frightened, how my little girl would be out there in the real world.
I know the society doesn’t work that way. I might say I don’t care but there will be thousand reasons and a thousand no’s and they will stop me. They will stop my path, put me on a shackle of hindrances and lock me up. The reason they will show would be simple-

this girl is to be blamed that a boy is trying to stalk her.  The girl might have done something. The girl put our society to shame. It’s the way she walks, it’s the way she eats…

  Why? Why is it that the girls are always to blame? When I told my mom that there is a boy trying to stalk me, she said nothing. Because no one takes initiatives. No one raises a voice. I know if my little girl is ever in trouble, I won’t sit quiet. I will make sure whoever it is to trouble my little baby girl doesn’t ever get to look up at another girl again. I would stand like a shield. Whereas, it was the duty of the society to be that shield. It freaks me out. It surprises me. I know I want a better world. I want a world I can breathe without being terrified. It will take time to change years of mentality. But if that mentality brings nothing but shame, it should be thrown right away. The society can change. It has over the years. All we need to do is to take initiatives.

Just a little initiative to change the society. To change the world.

Say No To Suicide

I was being paranoid. I knew that life had to offer better things and I was somehow depending on it. It’s not everyday that you are pleased with yourself and in my case, I am never pleased with myself, now life just gave me another reason for hating myself and of course, life. Life is one too much pain in the neck; but then it is life that I am so much in love with. So it doesn’t matter if my life is torturing me. It doesn’t matter that the sunny side of your egg is upside down on your plate and when you turn it, it breaks. It doesn’t even hurt when you are all happy and someone has to say something to you and you’re like not so much happy anymore. But really all that matters is that I’m being taken serious when I’m saying that major tendency to suicide has become too much of a matter now. I might be angry with life but I will never dare to hurt myself. Why not? Because I love myself too much for that. No matter how old I am, I’m always too young to die. Life is very short, life is very beautiful. Life is when you look at that purple flower and see a light shade of white closing in. Life is when you are walking and you see a little baby smiling at you. Life is a Friday night crazy movie night or a Wednesday of losing mind and cry. Life is how pizza is with extra crust base and double-cheese topping coated with too much white sauce. Life is a drop of ice in the heavy flow of rain. Life is a wonder. Life is harmony. Life is what I blabber to my friends. Life is an extra day in the leap year. Life is like the wind in the Willows.

So I am not succumbing to suicide. I will never surrender my judgement to what I couldn’t get. Because I’m too busy living a life.
#Say_no_to_suicide #awareness #Love_Life_Love_Yourself

Stalker Boy Next Door

   I have never thought that stalking can bring any good. But for some reason, people still stalk. Not an innocent, mild stalking. But heavy-duty, dangerous and like-an-animal-can-smell-you-from-miles-away-stalking. Which is not good. Totally not not-scary.

   There is a reason why people stalk and I personally might have experienced once or twice or even recently. In my world, I imagine a safe place where I can be myself without worrying that someone is watching, someone is taking pictures or someone might be planning a break-in in my house. Yet, I don’t find that safe place and soon find myself dealing with situations I never thought I’d face. It’s always unwanted no matter what. I know I don’t want to handle a heart-broken man trying to reach me to make amends. That’s when he turns into someone I’d hate and may be revenge-seeking angry stalker. Or it could be someone who saw me walking down the road and too afraid to say that he liked me. And may be like Boy Next Door, his fascination turning into obsession, his madness stopping at nothing. I don’t know what goes around a man’s head because frankly I am only a girl still trying to figure out if the world is ran by mind games or simply nuclear powers. But that’s not my criteria of thought right now, although we could say that stalking is like a ticking nuclear bomb. Anytime it could blast causing maximum damage.
And because I care about my peace and my freedom, I know I don’t want to stuck home behind locked doors and curtained windows because some jerk decided to lose his mind. I have a right to walk without being afraid, without having to look behind again and again to check if I’m being followed. I have the right to sit down by the beach without being photographed and sleeping in the night like there’s nothing but the wind and the stars. I have the right to let certain persons circle my world. Stalking is not an answer to someone wanting to be a part of my life. Stalking is never an option.
In these tech world, knowing about a person is so easy now that it takes this obsession to another level. My social media accounts tell all about me. I can’t stop anyone ‘researching’ on me because I voluntarily offered all the information. But never keeping this in mind that it will be used against my own self. You see, having social media is not wrong and bad things can happen to anyone. But that doesn’t mean that I’ll stop having them. That I will stop living. Stop what I like to do. All I have to do is take safety measures and precaution.
But is that going to stop the boy next door from peeping?

Journals : words from my mind

I was skimming through my old journals. Well, reading page by page to remind myself of the life I had once. Of the things I’ve done or gone through. Good thing about journal is that it makes you wonder of what it was like and how you actually felt while you were putting your mind in those pages. While some incidents remind you of a time you never wanted to end, and some lines that make you regret to even have written down. I just thought it will be interesting to share parts of my mind from the pages of my journal; share what I didn’t want anyone to read once upon a time.

“I should be serious but I can’t bring myself to it. I am so much distracted that even if I try, I can’t. I wish miracle happened.”
“It’s one thing to suffer completely being un-fault and wholly other thing to be unloved.”
“I don’t know what’s there it is for me. But whatever, it’s not going to be easy. And I’m not a very ambitious girl…I don’t know if I can stick longer. I just can feel sometimes, you know, that the grip is loosening. I’m scared but I do not do anything. What can I do? I can’t change what I’m going through. I can’t change the people, the time, the environment. All I can do is suffer, get tortured and let a few drop of tears escape.”
“I don’t know why the Almighty created me when He kept all the things to Himself- my brain, my intelligence, my luck, my happiness and just sent my body to this world.”
“I think if the doctors x-rayed my head, they’ll see my inside is empty.”
“Considering the days already passed in the last few weeks- I am completely non-candidate for anything with hugely and greatly importance issues to handle. I mean I can be a good consultant when I grow up- I am at least sure of that. Only fact is that those who are crazy or on the way to be one can come to such an egoistic fool like me.”
“Oh and I’m kind of falling again for Orlando Bloom. He’s so cute…”
“There was that day when somebody asked me if I really knew who I was. ‘Do you know you?’ – such a simple question with major complexity and approximately huge brain-jamming answer.”
“I was watching this movie and there a man says that every story-teller is a liar…”
“Dear diary, how do I keep dreaming that I’m going to be someone from my dreams? I’m useless, hopeless, pathetic, sympathetically a junk.”
“You know what? There’s a man who likes to peep into my room through his bathroom window…”
“I lie, I pretend, I’m rude, I argue, I’m useless…all that I am, and I said it now. Yet I feel like it was for nothing. I don’t feel anything. Free, relieved- nothing. Guess, I wasn’t honest with everything I’ve written in here…but that’s me, right? Not honest.”
“I always envy my sisters. They are intelligent, smart and everyone loves them. They are even beautiful and me- nothing is fine with me. People don’t like me in the first glance. They do not even notice me…they have this personality I don’t, the smartness I can’t have; the beauty I never am…”
“…and my already doomed fate is planning on dooming all over again…”
“Dear diary, I’m terrific. Because someone just told me indirectly that I’m a bitch. That characterless, cheap, mean, selfish, boneless, coward…”
“Sometimes, we have nothing else to do except to help the person we care about- even if it endangers our life. I’m willing to do everything, anything as far as I am able to…”
“I hate myself. I hate what I am. I hate how I am. I hate how I look. I hate my hair. I hate my nose. I hate everything about me. I just completely hate myself.
But then every story-teller is a liar, aren’t they?”
“This is far off limit. There is never going to be peace. At least my life isn’t a chaos or mayhem like Elena’s. But still…”
“…it feels so right and strange to remember all the way we had come, every incident, every moment. They all are treasures, locked securely in my chest…”
“Sometimes it’s not bad to ignore people. Especially who doesn’t care about you. It’s all about being who you really are, not someone you pretend to be. So that’s me and I don’t hide.”
“I don’t know what happens to me sometimes, but I’m always like this- mischievous, clever and naughty. But in an innocent way, of course. I like to charm people, like when they like me…”
“…I don’t talk to mom and to make this World War Minisize 3 Combo really happen, I gotta go to her and start screaming with the top of my lungs. I really hate to do it.”
“My life’s worthless. Every single day of my life sucks…Yet, I’m there- going to bed every night and waking up the next morning. For another meaningless, unwanted, miserable day.”
“Oh diary, life never gives me chances. Then why should I give life a chance?”
“Why is that God has given everything to those who already has everything and nothing to them who really deserves it.”
“I saw him today…”
“Why is real life so complex? I’m so miserable, so, so very miserable that sometimes I think why was it that I was even born? If I had to be so unwanted, so unloved, so uncared for then why do have to God bring me here on earth? Everyone has a specialty in them, why not me? Why am I so similar and not different? Envy them who are different among people, different as in looks, talents, brains. Why am I so common? And so out of luck?”
“Dear diary, days are like unwanted hotdogs…”
“I’m all but doomed. I can’t wait to die.”
“…Do you think I’d ever be the person I think of becoming?”
“I was a kid and didn’t see Chris that way but who knew pizza could be so spicy?!”
“Dear Diary, few hours ago I was this- I’m gonna kill myself on the day I was born. But now the time is passing, the more expectations are increasing. Uncharacteristically, I’m waiting for midnight. I’m planning further, future…”
“But I’m actually realizing reality is tough. Different. Impossible. It’s tormenting yourself when you regret of or not doing something…more tormenting when you’re remembering your happy moments…and again wish if time were stuck right there…could have been happy forever…”
“I really am tired. Tired of expecting and not getting it.”
“But one thing will never change. I will always be the one who will get neglected, unloved. So welcome another year of my life of this pathetic, cruel world. Happy birthday to me.”
“For the sake of my lousy luck and the freaky fate, please help me out! Life sucks…”
“Dear Diary, do you think I’m drunk? Because I sound like I’ve been drugged. Or is it natural in my age to talk like this? You know, all fed up, deserted, lonely, unloved?”
“At last, at last after nearly two months I saw him. Again.”
“Dear Diary, why did it feel like August went like a year and September passed in a day?”
“…You bitch on me? I’ll bitchslap you…”
“All I want to write is some MF’s think that they are all hot and happening but they are so mistaken…”
“You know I saw him today. But today he was in a silver car. I wonder how many cars he’s got. Because at first it was a golden car…then…it was a blue car. Now today it’s a silver car! I don’t know man. Am I supposed to look into every car that will pass me?”
“Our pranks, our happy moments, sad moments, bitter moments…everything that I am today- it all happened in this campus. The campus is our identity, our hangout place, our second home. And now we are to leave.”
“Dear Diary, I met a boy today and he was staring at me like I was something to eat…”
“…why make yourself the reason for others gossip?”
“Everywhere I go, everywhere I am, someone has to be an asshole to me…”
“…his short hair, that nose, those perfect lips, that awesome jaw, those shoulders, his deadly figure, the hot curve of his back…the never-ending legs and the long-pale-never-ending-awesome-fingers…”
“Right now I’m sitting in Chemistry class. He’s talking about D Glucose, the Chem teacher.”
“The winner is Barak Obama. What change is it going to bring? Is America going to change?”
“I saw Robert today. Daah! Not in person obviously- I wish I were that lucky enough. There was a commercial and then I saw him…”
“Dear Diary, I want to get rid of this tension. I want to have fun. I want to laugh. I want to have some real craziness…”
“My performance wasn’t good and I have a feeling that people did not enjoy it…I don’t know. Who the hell cares? I’m failing in physics!”
“…one man in India suicide just to do something out of ordinary on a day like this…”
“Its winter and it’s really cold outside… It’s been such a long time I haven’t seen him…”
“I’m here. Standing. Surviving. Suffering. Suppressing. Solidifying. It’s like gamble.”
“I’ve never seen snowing, no snow-flakes, never made a snowman with snow. I wonder how it’s like to be in snow. Sometimes.”
“Dear Diary, I know I dream big. Bigger. But then if I don’t dream bigger, how would I get the smallest things?”
“I want to hit the jackpot. I’m gambling my honor.”
All I have learned is that life never keeps promises. Going through these pages of my journal, I have once again lived the life I once lived and I know that all that I have faced, all that I have had, all that I could have had but didn’t; are a mere part of what life actually is. I took a selfish pleasure knowing that however my life had been, I used a great many times such that makes me proud. There may be times a few I made mistakes, a few times when I thought of myself useless or even accused people for my difficulties. But I always knew that wasn’t the end of it. That there was more. And every time when I sit to write about my day in my journals and the things that I’ve learned, I know there’s more of life to write about.

A Wake Up Call

Fairy tales. Like magic itself. Those words meant something to me. When I was little I used to think fairies existed. I used to think that when I slept, they came to watch over me. Sadly, I had no Fairy Godmother. Not that I ever complained. I believed I was Snow-white. Loving and caring.
But the fairy tales ended and my life took a turn when I got admitted in a school. I was a fascinating young girl exploring fascinating little realities. The irony wasn’t lost in me. It was as if Snow-white had been put into a place she couldn’t get out of and embraced the new environment with adornment because she knew that the fairies were looking. She faced challenges, she fought hatred, she won over hearts. I liked to think that I was my own Fairy Godmother.
I was, of course, wrong. Little did I know about being a godmother, let alone a fairy. I never stopped though, in my journey of my own fairytale. I was ready to do anything.
But as I grew bigger, priorities changed. So did my mind. I had long forgotten about my dreams and was fighting for my existence. Reality would do that to you. I had to be something but before that I had to be a human. Fates took turns in playing games and I was losing the battle between identity and existence.
I learned from my mistakes. That if I let something slip away, I would never get the grip back. I knew I wasn’t giving up. But may be fate had other plans for me. I was making more mistakes, drifting away further when I had to be the strongest. I was standing alone and I didn’t care if I was right. Or wrong. I knew it was time for me to do what I needed to do. That was when fate collided determination. And I was out of the frying pan and into the fire.
Fate never gave me a chance. But I believed that no matter what, at the end everything would turn out to be good. I wasn’t wrong. I was a head-strong Snow-white. I stood alone and fought alone. The evil Enchantress would lose, no matter what.
Today, I’m standing on a road- a road that will lead to my dreams, my existence and create a new identity for me. The journey is long. But I know the fairies are looking. I might have changed my priorities but those dreams- they are still there. This road ahead of me tells me that my home is right there- at the end of the road and my dream awaits for me. This time fate knows that it’s defeated.

The Pursuit of Happiness

There is no man without a companion. Wherever they go they need someone. It could be loved ones, it could be friends; it could be anyone. No one can live alone no matter what the situation is. We are created like this. We are made like this. We live in a world surrounded by other people- we look for each other, we care for each other. And all this comes from the depth of our heart.
We grow up surrounded by family and when we grow up more, we find ourselves dealing with people we know as friends. They help us socialize with the world, creating a new scenario before our eyes and make us see life as how it actually is. Some children learn through playing, some learn in the hardest way. Life isn’t easy, but that doesn’t mean they give up. If they fall, they know no matter how much they cry, they will eventually have to stand up. Children sometimes in their innocence teach us that life isn’t about just falling; life is about standing up too. And we have only one life to spare.
And this is the reason why we go on, holding hands with the people we care about.
And it should be enough knowing that the people we need, are always with us no matter what. It doesn’t matter if we’re close or too far away, we know that there are faces looking at our way, waiting for us and knowing that, it is enough to return home at the end of the day. Because it all matters at what happens at the end of the day. Someone could start a whole new beginning, someone might just mess it all up; someone could be walking out the door. But for someone after a hectic day, a simple smile from the loved ones will shine brighter than any star. At the end of the day we know that we can let go and start in a whole new way.Love, compassion, need, care, jealousy, ego, mistakes, pain, anguish, secrets and anger- all will find their home, once we know that we’re home. Because what matters, is the people we love- nothing else. And if we love truly, then we know this is the best feeling in this world.

@Jofficial
So take a moment and think if you’re telling your parents enough that you love them, if you’re just stopping by the floral store to get your beloved a nice flower without any reason or making your kid sure that there isn’t a monster under the bed and kiss them goodnight. Or telling your friends how much you appreciate that they are a part of your life.
Because at the end you’ll know that you are blessed with so many beautiful people around you and how much you are loved by them.

In The First Few Years of My Life

I sometimes look inside my mind and wonder, “Have I always been like this?”

I used to be a really innocent girl who no matter how much she tried couldn’t understand the meaning of ‘picture’. I couldn’t understand a lot of things. I never said anything and used to pretend that I got it right out of the innocence of my heart. I was naive and I was stupid even, or at least that was what I used to think. I remember once I asked my twin sister and a same aged friend what ‘picture’ meant and they laughed so much on me like I’d grown two heads and my nose was uplifted toward my forehead. It felt bad because nonetheless, they were my age and as naive as me. So what if I asked? They didn’t have to make such a big deal out of it. I hardly believed that they themselves knew the meaning and they pretended they did. I consoled myself thinking that may be it was okay. I of course didn’t let myself hold a grudge. Because I knew my sister was boastful and hopeless and even though I had problem understanding the word for weeks longer, I never asked her again. One day my tutor simply understood my word problems and he showed me a photo on the wall and told me that was what was called a picture.

I obviously felt like an idiot but he made it as if it was okay not to know. I’d gradually started to learn and understand new words and also the fact that my sister somehow, competing with me. She’d always been interested in whatever I did which most of the time, lead into an argument and I’d give up doing it. She obviously pleased with the result would pick it up where I left off. Meanwhile, when I saw that she was doing good in school, she had placed in the merit list and I hadn’t and the teacher of course was very pleased with her result. We were ‘the babies of the class’ because we were the only twin pair that year. All the students, even the teachers loved us. So when I didn’t make it to the merit list, my class teacher told me “No, no dear, no claps for you sweetie.” That hit. You know,
like a physical blow.

That was when I realized, I had a long way ahead of me. She became the class-attractor, like a shiny new toy and I felt gradually falling behind. I don’t remember what I did, but I do remember, I ended up doing better. When her position was eighth, I came sixth. All I can say is- that felt good. Really good. I was back to square level and I was dancing in my head. Competing with your sister was good, but I ended up compete with her nature and driven by jealousy, struck head-on. It ended up bad, obviously, affecting our very sweet relation and my innocence. It was a war, and because my sister was the apple of the family, the blame always was on me. I started nurturing anger. And I wasn’t even ten, I think. In those days, there wasn’t a day I hadn’t cried my eyes off. I hated myself, I hated to be a part of my family.

And of course, I was naive. I didn’t understand the rules of this world. I grew up in an environment which was neglectful of a child’s healthy maturity, because of a lot of reasons. In that age I knew that there wasn’t much choice ahead of me. And I accepted that. I accepted that in the future I have to look out for myself and some other things in particular. There’s problem in every household, but whichever I witnessed, I prayed no other child like me would have to witness that. I felt little, I felt weak. My hands were tied and I couldn’t do much. All I could do was stare at the hostility around me and still hoped that things would get better.

Around when I was a teen I remember one day my father breaking everything in the house. He’d done so before. He was hideous- beating my mother and all. No daughter would have to witness that but I did. I was deprived of many things, and I almost didn’t mind but that was the day when I actually started hating my father. My mother suffered endlessly- all her life. And my life had just started. It was awful. I used to look out for my mother but somehow I wasn’t exactly her favorite daughter. My older sister and twin sister seemed to get whatever they wanted and all I used to get was her taunts. I don’t know how it worked but it had been like that since I was a child- when the tug of war was just starting between me and my sister. I’d heard every mother loves her children. I used to cry in the bathroom and used to ask the Almighty why she hated me so much. If my twin wanted to go to her Friend’s house, she was allowed and I didn’t have a right to
say no. But when I’d make plans, she’d say no. Always. I never knew another way around. By that time I had got rude, moody and I used to stay mad 24/7. And of course everyone in the school loved her because she was sweet and hard worker and a charmer, and I knew she was a pretender. She loved attention, I hated when she got it. Eventually I was the bad guy because of the way I behaved and I came to be careless. I discovered if I didn’t care, it wouldn’t hurt that bad. In the end, I’d become so careless that no one bothered about me anymore. I just had to help my sisters, listen to their lectures, my mother’s taunts, tag along with my sister’s friends and forget mine. Even there were days there was a plan and I was only told the night before or even in the morning when it was time to get ready.

It was okay to be neglected and unloved. And in the end, I used to hate myself. I’d forgotten to love myself. When nobody loved you there is a tiny piece in your heart would tell you to let go, to just end all of it. And I tried. A few times I attempted killing myself. If you didn’t love yourself, you’d succeed. I hadn’t. And it meant that there was piece of me that still loved myself. My best friend would often tell me why I suffer so much. Why I kept everything bottled inside of me. So when there was expectations from me, I failed and it caused more hatred form everyone. And because I let myself not to care, they started seeing me as a hopeless. Pity. I asked Almighty, “Why me? If You had to give me so much pain, why bother to even keep me safe? If You wouldn’t even look at me, then why make me suffer? Couldn’t You at least be pitying me? Couldn’t You at least show me mercy? What had I done? Why me of all?” I sound like Dean Winchester but that was the question I used to ask every night and every day.

I was pathetic. What I did was simple. I gathered myself up. I stood before the mirror and thought, “Have I always been like this?” Then I remembered that cute little child who was innocent and who didn’t know the meaning of picture. I wasn’t innocent anymore and I’d come a long way. Yeah I’m still cute but not naive. But I don’t have to show to people that I don’t love myself. I don’t have to show people what I’ve been through. I want the world to see me as the girl I could be. So I put up a smile on my face, talk so much useless things that people would immediately think, “Where is this girl from?” I walk with this confidence that no matter what, if I’ve been able to come all these way, then hell, there’s more way to walk on. And I will walk until my mother loves me and tells me, “I am proud of you.”