Now I Bare My Soul

I have to get this out of my system.

There’s a tiny voice in my head that wouldn’t allow me to go to sleep, hence I ponder…

In an extemporaneous speech in back high school, I was asked what one question I am afraid to be asked. I never thought that the day will come when I would find a genuine answer to that question.

Who am I?

Three words. Three terrifying words which have been haunting me maybe longer than I realize. And now I quiver, not wanting to hear the answer.

When I was younger, I never had a concrete idea what I would be like at 25. I guess I should have drafted “me” sooner. It would have given me a better sketch of who I should have been.

I look at the mirror and I see a monster.

I am a 25-year-old nobody who acts as if she owns everybody. The universe has to revolve around me. Being plain selfish is not enough. I have to be the center of everything--everything including the forces of nature. I not only take pleasure in sarcasm but also live on pessimism. The glass is never half full; it has got to be half empty all the time. For some reason, I am always afraid. I cannot even commit myself to a dream, a lifestyle, a person, or a faith. I am always angry too, not to the people around me but to me. I have been angry for so long I have forgotten what love is.

Why did I allow this to happen? What am I supposed to do to make me a better person?

I’m afraid that as long as I don’t figure out the answer to my final question, I will never be happy.


If there’s one good thing I wish to happen out of my confession, then that will be my readers being spared of my limbo. I truly hope no person will ever have to be as bothered as I am bothered tonight.

Sleep tight everyone.