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Rated: · Prose · Other · #1012643
writing class-to write abt some you know very well from a different point of view.
she cut herself. it didn’t help
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she looked out the window. even the rain smelled better. tasted better. when it rained there, she always felt like running in it, dancing in it. she felt at peace in the rain. watching. thinking.
when it rained here, it was un-inspirational. it was a bug. it disturbed her. she despised the rain here. it tasted so neutral. no texture, no flavor. like a snobbish still mineral water. she felt depressed when it rained here. no dancing in the rain. just the need to get out of the lifeless drops as soon as possible.

was it just the rain. the weather. or that tugging feeling at the heart. or that massive ego brewing underneath her head cap that has been so well kept hidden since she arrived. no ego. no attitude. just live and survive through. and now its bursting. her desire and her need and the pride she had put away rearing its head. wanting to be pushed out again. maybe he had became the catalyst. maybe it was part of the bigger plan. just doing what he had always unconsciously been doing. pushing her. edging her. closer to her big dreams.

had they all not known that she was such a symbolical person. that she was actually really what she had represented herself to be all the while. dragon. dragon ash. and even he called her that. porcelain.
and yet what. they looked past it. looked past all the symbolism that she built herself around. its true, I guess, that everyone will always retain something that nobody outside themselves will ever understand.

that she was really a dragon made of ash. that she was really porcelain – like. that all the tough and strength only on the outside. that she is so easily crumbled inside. and that she had already crumbled a little sometime ago. that the phoenix was a representation of a new her. of a balance she found. that he helped her find. that all her life in her rebellion against it she had learnt to accept. and when he pushed the phoenix away, it was so confusing for her. like the person who brought change didn’t see the change.

but it was only because the symbolism she holds is so hard to comprehend. like how she view crescent moons. like how she refuse to embrace any religion. like how all her other quirkiness perks sometimes.

and how she knows all hard work will bring rewards. all her life how she had trudge and work through to do the best in all she knows. like how she knows now it’s the same. like how she’s willing to fight everything that comes her way. to take it on.

she doesn’t want to ride the waves and be the norm. she doesn’t want to end up like everyone else where the waves will stop. she wants to sail a ship. maybe. or take a submarine. it can be different. things didn’t need to be the same for everyone all the time. she wants to work for her own happiness. she wants to bring joy to the people around her.

she wants to be the dragon and the precious porcelain to the world outside her. let her alone deal with the ashes and the cracks at the end of the day.

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she woke up and this time she looked at her arms. she would never do that to herself again. it was the new balance she found. at this moment she made the decision she wouldn’t change. she was going to grip her own life again.


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