authenticity

it can be tough sharing a communal space with meagre self appreciation. reflected is an omnipresent mosaic over my features, lost in the blur of the frenzied crowd. against the incorruptible ambushes of my past incubus, i am utterly powerless.

yet, a ridiculous spark of hope remains. does it derive from the knowledge that i am a dull rock amongst the tens of thousands of glittering, polished gems? i do not know. the wilted parts of myself i no longer see as fodder. the facade i carry is cumbersome. it’s too heavy for these feeble shoulders to carry.

so i seek comfort in my mediocrity. it swaddles me whole and whispers sweet nothings in my ears, simultaneously guiding me through the tumultuous waves of tomorrow. i won’t claim i glide through freely. the albatross still hounds me, i hear the clacking of its beak even when my eyes are shut and my ears are plugged. nonetheless, i do not fear the truth. there is no shame in inadequacy, there is only gradual acceptance.

i am banal.

yet i am aberrant.

i am mundane.

yet i am eccentric.

i am everything that is wrong with me,

yet i am everything that is right with me.

(sorry rushed work idk what im writing ty for reading)