My Little Phony

I don’t feel like fighting today. So I am allowing myself to be weak. And sad.

Yesterday, I’ve come to a conclusion that I really am more of a lover than a fighter. I’d care more than I’d compete.

I am thinking I’d be better off if I were a cut-throat bitch who sails through life’s challenges very swiftly. It seems easier for them bitches to survive. They do their thing and care less whom they trip along the way. They move forward. They reach their goals.

I grew a heart. As consequence, I have to tend to it whenever it feels pain. And it eats up time. I could suppress my drama but what for? To pretend I am a cold, cut-throat bitch?

I have a long way to travel but at the moment, I’m admitting that I’m tired. While I’m at it, allow me to confess that my spirit is beaten up. It ain’t easy proving oneself to hostile parties all the time. It makes me feel like a phony, like I am not who I claim to be. Which is pretty much an impossible thing to do by an overly self-aware entity.

So think of this as a quick break.

I’d pack up and get on my feet again later. I just need this breather.