Suddenly, Saturday night, it happened.
I was writing, as I usually am, when suddenly I found myself writing the following:
You may not know who I am, but I think I have an idea. I chase after the wind. I trap lightning in bottles. I do the impossible and smile afterwards, because it was so easy.
I am both the diamond and the dirt. To expose me, you must first erode me. I hide who I truly am...simply by being me.
I am a true solipsist. I believe in the absolute power of my mind. I am neither a pessimist or an optimist. I am both an idealist and a realist; I live in a utopian world, well aware that it will never happen, and I have accepted this as fact.
I chart my own course. I refuse to trod the paths of others before me. I choose instead to walk within the jungles when everyone chooses to walk the highway. I embrace the pain on tripping and falling, of skinned knees, when all others rush to alleviate the stinging pain...
Saturday night-- or was it Sunday morning?-- caught me in the most introspective mood I've been in for a few months. But finally, finally, finally, I've learned who exactly I am.
I am exponentially more than the sum of my parts. I am a child, yet I am a woman. No. I am more than a woman. I am unique. Unique in that there is no other combination of genes which could ever produce this person, this exquisite example of... self... that is me.
I am not you. I am not my mother, my father, or anyone else. I'm me. You understand? I'm me, and I've finally learned to accept that which I cannot change.
Once I wanted to be someone else. To lose myself in the shadow of her personality and become her. But I've learned.
I seek true peace and happiness. I have yet to achieve it, but now I embark on the next step of the journey: acceptance of self.
I accept that I am flawed. I accept that there will be times when I will sink deep into the recesses of my mind and wish to remain there, stuck, for a lifetime. I accept that I am not perfect, and that I never will be perfect. I accept myself as I am, flaws and all, a girl who all she wants is to find her own niche in this world and make a difference, who wants to be happy, who wants to laugh until the tears flow and the stomach aches, who just wants to be accepted for who she truly is, who doesn't have to hide the diamond in the dirt, a girl who listens to the songs of the starsin the dead of night and marvels and the exquisite perfection of it all.
I accept my paradoxical personality. I accept that I am an oxymoron. I accept that I am an eccentriq in every sense of the word. I accept that I will laugh where others remain stone-faced, and I will remain stone-faced where others laugh. I accept that I will be different from the rest of the crowd simply because I am me.
I am an oddity. I am whimsical. I am unpredictable. The empyreal is my desideratum. Never the terrestrial. I am flawed. I am oxymoronic: I am flawed and imperfect...yet I am absolutely perfect.
Finally, I know who I am. I flopped back on my bed that Saturday night/Sunday morning with the biggest grin on my face because guess what... Eureka!!!
Happier than I've been in a looooooooooong time,
@Jaye_Eccentriq
