I have long been thinking of the way I led my life and I appear to have reached a conclusion. Somewhere between periods of happiness and sadness I have stepped out of my own life, and watched it as a spectator. And when I didn't like what I saw, I patched a different personality trait here and there. One or two may have been acceptable, however, I realized I have patched my entire personality and sewn myself a chrysalis. It's ironic to say a chrysalis, because chrysalises contain butterflies, and I can't help but question the choice by asking myself every single day, will I even slightly resemble a butterfly?
I have an abnormal fear of pain. They call it algophobia in psychiatry. It holds me back, straps me in a seat of constant worry and anxiety, and threatens to worsen each time I tell myself I can pull through. I, myself, whoever that is, can't break free of this fear. But the me I would have liked to be, is so brave, courageous, and strong; and I know because she is me in a pseudo-reality that exists between those periods of happiness and sadness. She is the chrysalis, the perfect one, she is the chrysalis which originated from me.
Nobody realizes I am neither caterpillar, nor butterfly, because everyone peeks through their own chrysalises, pupae, and cocoons and no one is himself. People are hiding behind fake personalities because of their fears, and they are giving hypocritical advice like "be yourself."
But some of us understand that the builder of the chrysalis is the essence, the core, the absolute being. If the me I wanted to be hadn't been inside of me all this time, I wouldn't have had the strength to build the chrysalis. And now I am setting myself free, with all my fears left inside the covering, and my heart pumping fresh blood through my thin little veins in my wings, and I am flying, while the others watch, and admire the beauty of freedom and a word we have come so estranged with: "oneself."
-Lots of peaks,
Belle
I have an abnormal fear of pain. They call it algophobia in psychiatry. It holds me back, straps me in a seat of constant worry and anxiety, and threatens to worsen each time I tell myself I can pull through. I, myself, whoever that is, can't break free of this fear. But the me I would have liked to be, is so brave, courageous, and strong; and I know because she is me in a pseudo-reality that exists between those periods of happiness and sadness. She is the chrysalis, the perfect one, she is the chrysalis which originated from me.
Nobody realizes I am neither caterpillar, nor butterfly, because everyone peeks through their own chrysalises, pupae, and cocoons and no one is himself. People are hiding behind fake personalities because of their fears, and they are giving hypocritical advice like "be yourself."
But some of us understand that the builder of the chrysalis is the essence, the core, the absolute being. If the me I wanted to be hadn't been inside of me all this time, I wouldn't have had the strength to build the chrysalis. And now I am setting myself free, with all my fears left inside the covering, and my heart pumping fresh blood through my thin little veins in my wings, and I am flying, while the others watch, and admire the beauty of freedom and a word we have come so estranged with: "oneself."
-Lots of peaks,
Belle