literature

Chrysalis

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Literature Text

I tired to change.

I tried to be diffrent. I tried to remake myself. I wanted something better. I wanted something more. I wanted to be something more.

I dared to hope. I had hope there was someone that was meant for me. I had hope I would find them. I had hope they existed.

I believed. I believed good things would come because I was a good person. I believed I would find my way. I believed there was more for me than what I was given. I believed I deserved more.

I tried. I was brave. I laid my feelings on the line. I told how I felt. I knew what I wanted was far-fetched and improbable. I tried anyway. Tried for the dream. Tried to be brave.

I wrapped myself in a chrysalis of hopes, and beliefs, and far-flung tries. Transition from catipiller to butterfly; the ultimate goal.

My hope was shattered. I never relized there never was any to begin with. If I haven't found the love that I wanted in any form by now, I never will. To hope someone could overlook appearance, to hope they would take me as I am, for all that I am, was naive. Hope itself is a Phantom; we tell ourselves it exists, while it strokes the chin and lures us like a solitary Siren's song. All it is leading us to is our destruction.

I watched my belief plummet. They fluttered there for a moment, before blowing apart when they hit the ground. The world does not give you good things because you are good. It puts it's foot in your back and pushes you back into the mud. It was foolish to think otherwise, as was my belief that I would find my way. There's no daylight in the tunnel, just the oncomming train. It was arrogant to believe I deserved any better. I don't. I'm in the dirt where I always belonged. It was obvious to everyone else. Just not me.

I never should have tried. I knew how the story would end. It ends as it always does. Affection is never met with equal such. It is me with rejection at best. Revulsion at worst. Humiliation in all things. Bravery in the face of the inevitable is only foolhardy. To try the same thing over and over, expecting a diffrent result is insanity. I am done being insane.

I had hoped someone would let me out of my cocoon. I believed we would fly on words in this world as one. I had tried to achieve a life I was never meant for. No one will free me. It seems I must beat my way out myself, alone, as it was meant to be.
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