The Untold Stories.

Strong

Sometimes it's not about what we show ourselves as, but about who we actually are.

And realising it every night. Yes, every single night,forces me to think if the day light is actually a truth or a mirage in itself. Everyday we're meeting new people, and losing some loved ones as well. We are laughing, crying, going out, making friends and at the end of the day, thanking the invisible man up there for whatever we've got in this unstable life.

But then I find some nights when I'm laying in my bed at 3 AM, staring at the pale ceiling and wishing someone, anyone to be with me. That's the time when I realise how alone we all actually are.

Maybe not all of us, but still, many of us.

All those nights, reminds me of the pain I've been avoiding and how I'm trying to hold it back. I think about ways to be a better human being, so that when I wake up the next day,I find a new version of mine waiting by the doorway. but the next moment, I find myself crying out loud for no certain reason. I don't stop myself though. No, I never wipe my tears. Tears are the only way to get everything out. Tears are the way to clean our messed up souls. So yeah, I weep as much as possible. I want my built up emotions to pour out of my eyes,and I cry for hours and scream into the pillows, until the realisation finally hits me that they all who let us down are weak. I tell myself that they just want me to be like them, a typical society creature.
But that's not my cup of tea.
I've my own choices, my own vision of seeing things in a different way, and just because I'm not like them, doesn't mean I'm wrong.
I'm absolutely right, but in my own way.
And I don't need to prove them that how freaking strong and unique I really am, and so are you.