chrysanthemum / d8 / FIN

The mirror is a place where you can learn to accept yourself and your world. Beyond that thin pane of material, though, lies a world parallel to your reality. Different in every which way, magical, beautiful — a place where your wildest dreams can become true, perhaps.

That's how I look at the world. I believe there's a single hope in hell which will cause a person to rise from their soggy, depressed-stained ashes and be reborn as something so intricate and special, it ignites their fire and starts their story. An optimist, in a way, yet the glass is neither half full or half either. It is just a holder of something impermanent.

Most of the things in our world have that trait in common with the water, impermanence. Curling swarms of ivy clawing up a home have a due date, much like butterflies and birds and bees, much like you and I. The idea that the world is always changing provides some of them with comfort, a chance that things will change for the better. But for myself and strangers like me, there is no point in thinking it will simply "get better". The world is a journey, it started thousands of years ago and won't stop for a thousand more. We have no effect.

But what we do have is each other, and though separately we are somewhat insignificant to the whole grand scheme of it all, we each play a tiny part in how society turns. Our love and lust for a man or woman, our flowering knowledge which grows like an old oak tree, and the whits about us which make us loveable; they all have a role in this play. Being surrounded and surrounding yourself with people and other minds is an incredible, important thing. We converse and we grow our seed of confidence. To me, there's nothing better.

However, we hide behind masks of bitter beauty and swollen serenity, obscuring a view which would be the subject of a thousand different myths and fairytales. I am amazing, I am art, I am myself. A tall, long-legged girl who is topped with luscious locks of silken hair. It sounds better when we describe ourselves positively, so why do we refrain from doing so?

Whether you are black or white, male or female, old or young — you are stuck in your body until the seconds fade into none. My shell has been scarred by experiences, my shell has been cut by creativity. The loss of an eye should not set me apart from the rest. It should be embraced and encouraged so that we become champions of our own selves, so happiness is a curse upon us forever more.

A mind is anyone's best friend. My own, indeed, as it has guided me through the darkness when I was starved from a light. I was lost in a large crowd of unfamiliar faces flaunting beaming smiles. I was lost in a sincere regiment of teenagers plagued with agitation and dismay. I told myself to not let the heartbreak forge a false pathway to my future, and my advice has stuck to me to this day. Living in fear does nothing but damage a person, living in panic does nothing but smash your strength.

Protect yourself. Lock it away and throw away the key, throw it to the birds because they will make use of it. What is one to do when struck with distress? I've learnt from my mistake, you must know not to crumble, not to let a hurricane rip through your perfect sky or storm.

Learning is sacred. It's what made me forget about him. The misery and loss, the hours and days, searching for something to hold close and shed a tear for. It never came. It never will. I hope that I've become the girl, the lady he would've wanted me to become because he is all a think of.

My saviour.

My hero.

My taste of honey.