reflection
As I watched the water streaming down my face in the mirror, in the cold bathroom, I stared longer than usual. I scrutinized every line, wrinkle, spot, upwards to my swollen panda eyes. Who is this girl, I thought? Suddenly, Aina and Mary's Asian Literature presentation popped in my head. Oh for pete's sake, are you really comparing yourself to Mulan now Nashrah? Stop with the constant daydream-like thoughts. You are nowhere near her character. She was brave, strong and she saved China once upon a time for crying out loud. You? You are a sad, indecisive, clueless girl who possesses "chicken" and "guinea pig" like qualities. Right, I got that, conscience and logic. Crystal clear, no need to rub it in any further.
It's funny how one argument, a misunderstanding, an ugly one, an eye opener, a couple inches closer to the brink of destruction, can lead me to think and reevaluate things while staring at myself in that mirror. What am I really? Am I worthwhile? I'm smart enough to know the answers to these questions but why can't I provide them? Here we go again. Me getting personal. But it's hard when all you ever wear on your sleeve is your heart. Honestly, I don't know how not to.
From little, I've been taught right and wrong, good and bad. But being discreet is something I need to acquire, (ceh dah selit SLA pulak) not learn. I've grown up with the idea that the world is black and white. Little did I know, it has shades of grey in between. So being personal has been my forte for so long. But at least now, I know when is enough to share and when's not. I just wish I could see things through your eyes so my faith will always reinforce itself rather than fade. I'm holding on real tight, and how I manage to go through this ordeal is by praying and hoping, whilst crying myself to sleep. By crying, it assures me that I am still capable of feeling heartbreaks and strangely enough, it makes me feel alive.
So let me be.
It's funny how one argument, a misunderstanding, an ugly one, an eye opener, a couple inches closer to the brink of destruction, can lead me to think and reevaluate things while staring at myself in that mirror. What am I really? Am I worthwhile? I'm smart enough to know the answers to these questions but why can't I provide them? Here we go again. Me getting personal. But it's hard when all you ever wear on your sleeve is your heart. Honestly, I don't know how not to.
From little, I've been taught right and wrong, good and bad. But being discreet is something I need to acquire, (ceh dah selit SLA pulak) not learn. I've grown up with the idea that the world is black and white. Little did I know, it has shades of grey in between. So being personal has been my forte for so long. But at least now, I know when is enough to share and when's not. I just wish I could see things through your eyes so my faith will always reinforce itself rather than fade. I'm holding on real tight, and how I manage to go through this ordeal is by praying and hoping, whilst crying myself to sleep. By crying, it assures me that I am still capable of feeling heartbreaks and strangely enough, it makes me feel alive.
So let me be.
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