Everything about her has always been obscure. Things in between dark and bright, ones in between black and white, but all has never been sure. Her life was a set of illicit sequences kept securely and locked safely inside a box—Pandora’s, let’s say. None, no one holds a key to her box for not even she, herself, knows where she keeps it.
“I wonder, I wonder, if anyone would ever be able to find the key.”
She was looking for anyone to save her, to help her reconcile with herself, to give strength for her. She was frail and vulnerable. Her pieces are ashes, her memories are pointless, her life was futile. As if she had no purpose, often time, she walks by her life only to count the days.
“I want to live.”
How desperate does one have to be to wish to live?
Do you have any idea what is a sadder sentence than, “I want to die,”? It is, “I want to live.”
It indicates that a person is much in despair, desolate, and miserable.
It indicates that her life is nothing but an empty blank and she is wishing for a life worth living.
She no longer wants the clandestine piece that always shadowed her.
She wants a life that anyone would introduce to her. She wants happiness that anyone would bring to her. She wants a savior.
Little does she know that before she finds someone, she needs to make peace with herself.
She needs to find someone who makes her realize her worth and not to give her a life. She needs to find someone who makes her realize her strength and not to give her power. She needs to find someone who makes her realize her rainbow and not paint her one.
She was cursed.
She was cursed to be alive but to not live.
— FORTEM GAIA; 18042021.
