My Solitude

I use to read fairy tales when I was a kid. To this date, when I close my eyes my memory still brush on, with the enchantments of huge castles, talking animals, beautiful gowns and suddenly fetched happiness out of the blue. I remember vaguely my innocent childhood's entail of entertainments. Occasionally, I still go and watch animated movies to retrieve back my winnowed retentions. Over time I have accepted that life is not a fairy tale. It is not even a blip of science. Please don't misconstrue my remark for my ambivalency. We may destined for something which may already been made in heaven, yet it requires to cultivate in earth. Let's recall the practical sphere we all exist with. Importantly, our vision, thoughts, and ideas need to articulate through speech. Even a genius brain restrained in silence and ultimately bears less fruit, if the other had to comprehend what it thinks. At certain point, it recedes and perhaps carries no weight if it's not expressed on time.

Ironically, I am surprise to see responses people have made when I have apportioned my perspective over speaking for ourselves. Often times, I was even misunderstood as an invalided, by the people whenever I have a quest of self advocacy. Some professionals do prattle about the ethics and other simply counterpart incongruity. I retort myself, am I only allowed to present my self picture distinctly if I have some physical or mental deformity? Sharp discrepancy towards people's perceptions has outspread. Isn't self advocating is also contributing to self credibility and delivering self consciousness? How bad is it to sell my knowledge to make others aware of the situation? I can be only allowed to utter for myself if I have dyslexia… Wow! It sounds ridiculous. I am coerced to be quiet. And even if I am dyslexic, why in the world do I want to live in such a discriminatory environment stretching the truth everyday that I am stigmatized with disabled?

I am very aware of the fact that we resist to new changes. It is scary as hell to venture into new territory. Scrabbling our own pace, coping with the lifestyle yet protecting our own heritage is quite a bit of adjustment that we contend. We like to cling on to familiar ground and relish ourselves from selfsame company. The magnitude of the fear is no different than mine. I cannot commend myself perching my breakthrough with my self clutch.

Why do we live with such repressions? My mind drifts. How far can we make this trip like this?It rambles to find my queries.

I assume, may be why not. I can tranquillize my burden off on some generous soul because I can ask for help without even considering dealing on my own. Being a socialite I can demand for help whenever and however I wanted. Why shouldn't I tally myself with others after all I should be doing no different than the crowd I hang out?

In my solitude, I dare to speak out.... through words and work in spite of so many odds; I dare to have an open mind for myself and for others. My outcomes may be less appealing and intolerated to many, yet I insist to seek constantly and dedicate myself to the different side of life, something little beyond than cooking, eating, chatting, sleeping and partying.