Ego

There are voices in my head. They kept me awake all night long.

They all tried to protect me. Made me aware of my vulnerabilities. Made me feel alone and mistreated.

They made it sound like it's us against the world, all the voices on my side.
And I was right.

They ran through my veins and pumped the memories out. Memories of being at peace. Indignant I felt.

They showed me clips from the past, threatened about how the future will look like with a shadow that succeeded the now.

I cursed my creativity. I ain't no artist. Bloody unstoppable thoughts. I felt tired.
I told myself to fall asleep. Sleep shook her head.

I stayed in denial for a while and accepted at the end of a reel projecting a generic persistent series of events.
Accepted that this is it.

The voices reassured that I was honest. The voices assured that the rest are mistaken.

I felt uncertain but I also felt confident.
Because in the past, I tried till the end.
For approvals, for compassion, for equality, to make it work. And met with judgemental assumptions in the voices from others' heads, faint screaming voices. I gave my 100%. Sometimes nothing is enough. Sometimes, the voices tell me that nothing is worthy of being so exhausted.

Because in the past, I quit. People, friends, challenges, consequences. And survived. I knew that I am happier.

Quitting wasn't a negative word when the world turned happy.

Then, the world had agreed that I was right.