The room suddenly became smaller, and my fingers involuntarily grabbed at the loose hair stuck to my shirt. As the conversation faded, I delved into the darkest aspects of myself.
Where does one begin to ask a question? Where does an 18-year-old begin to answer it?
That’s why I finally sat down at the keyboard to try to solve a seemingly insoluble but highly accurate observation.
Where the past and the future meet, there is a hovering entity called the present. The present is fragile, thin as paper with wings flapping aimlessly in the chaos around it. It is almost tired of having to stay the same. It is the place where our choices arise and take shape to move into the next realm of time. The present is not concerned with the shallow characteristics of the past or the future, so the question is pushed aside.
One could say that the present moment shows the qualities of Narcissus, who transforms the whole world into his own reflection sliding over the ripples of the river. One cannot take one’s eyes off one’s absolute beauty; it is human nature to want to be better and to improve.
las, this is what the present is manipulating. Knowing that you have to deal with the consequences of the present will set up obstacles from which you can make two choices, either the outcome you want or the outcome you don’t want to face. The present is not picky about what you accomplish, but it is quite pleased with itself and its own cunning when you fall into the trap of the worst-case scenario.
I can’t defend what I’m doing now. It is exhausting to exist just to create a moment and to know that the situation has to do with the willingness of the observer to use the future to change or the past to reflect on the mistakes they made in the current situation.
However, learning about the present moment as an individual is not always as unfair as the teacher preaches. Traversing is hard and arduous, and we often lose ourselves in the barren cliffs and mountains we must encounter.
I am very reluctant to share a moment in which I am now allowed to hide the most precious parts of myself, but in order to find the scattered pieces I have lost, it is necessary to confide in you and allow you to be an observer of my experience.
I would like to say that I have a good understanding of my inner nature, but this is far from the truth. I often find myself unable to sleep due to the inevitable future looming. I approach each moment with caution, and after countless trials and errors, I come up with a seemingly perfect solution to outsmart the gift of cunning and manipulation.
Every time I meet someone I feel close to, I feel now gloating as I fall into the clutches of uncontrollable regret. So I leave the connection to show that I’m not moving too fast, that I’m not too friendly, too funny or too much, so I’ll have better results and complete the task before me.
Let’s drop the anthropomorphism and analogy for now.
If I continue to ultimately deceive myself by projecting my concerns onto an inanimate and abstract concept, then I will never live a life that makes me a better person.
I sat at my desk, feeling ashamed. Why am I hiding myself? It is not because we try to catch fleeting moments as they drift away with the reflection of actions we did not make.
So I’m afraid I’m not being honest enough with you, dear reader. Because the problem is with me.
Throughout my life, I have aspired to live up to the standards I set for myself. I have been published and interviewed internationally and enjoy an unshakeable reputation among my peers and close friends. It was never enough.
I was always too much. Too short. Too funny. Too friendly. Too exciting. Never finding the balance I believe I will get in perfect harmony.
Sometimes I’m not enough. I’m ordinary. I get hooked on the people I touch. I was crushed by my own criticism.
Then one day, I stopped reaching out because I was afraid of turning the people I loved to stone. I stopped looking at the people around me in class, stopped reaching out to the people I admired, and eventually I stopped everything.
It was the loneliest period of my life.
I hated every ounce of my existence. I hated the way I spoke, ate, moved and moved.
Until I didn’t.
From then on, the cycle doesn’t end with happiness. The cycle keeps going on and on until you have the courage to break it.
I had breakthrough moments where I was reunited with a part of myself I had forgotten. I got rid of the skin I no longer needed.
I was enough.
This is why, my friend, I hide what I love most about myself from others. I’m afraid I’ll start to erode until my bones turn to powder and my heart is too fragile.
Yet, what if that’s the best possible ending? To show the world unfiltered authenticity. All one can do is embrace all of one’s flaws and successes, because what are we all if we can’t prove that we have overcome the boundaries we set for ourselves?
I can no longer hide myself because that would mean cheating myself of all my glory and imperfections
