Things for which my hands once trembled, no longer faze me. I no longer have meltdowns in the middle of the day. I no longer worry endlessly and cry myself to sleep.
My ears which once craved to be appreciated, to be accepted are now used to the sound of applause. Presence of people who once made me babble endlessly (till I look like an idiot), are now the ones I look down upon. I’ve got it all.
‘Yet you feel empty. Yet you’re not happy.’
A small voice, too insignificant and small to be heard, reminds me. I shake my head in despair. I’ve worked hard all my life, and now I’m here.
What part of it don’t I like?
How can I not like this? People crave for this.
Hell, I wanted it so bad when I was young!
‘What’s wrong with you?’Another voice questions. I thought money was all I ever wanted. I thought it can buy me anything. I thought applause could fill my voids.
But can it? Can it make me whole again. The nervous child in me was never unhappy, it just craved attention. But now I truly get what unhappy means. It means hollowness.
I’m successful, or so the world perceives me, it’s so ungrateful of me to even say something like this! But is this truly success?
Or do I just have the money to flaunt off my possessions?
Maybe if I would’ve cared less about creating an impression and being “successful”, I wouldn’t have to deal with this hollowness. This emptiness.
Maybe if I focused more on expressing, the whole of me, I wouldn’t be so furious all the time. Maybe if I didn’t supress those talents I used to take pride in, I wouldn’t be so frustrated.
Can we, for once, live like the people we truly are? Is it so important to be liked by everyone, that we go as far as killing our inner self?
It causes emptiness; it never could, never can, and never will, cause any happiness.
So just focus you. Maybe the billions of dollars which seem so appealing won’t matter in a decade. But if you give up on your dreams now, then that sure as hell is gonna leave a mark. An invisible scar.