Aren’t we the prisoner of our own prison

For all our life, we are craving for someone who gets us, 

someone who sees what what we see

But once we find them, we feel terrified

we know we can’t be trusted 

we know it won’t last long

we know it’s too good to be true

we also refused to get too much attached

Because we know romanticism might just kill us

We thought if we get too used to the existence of us may lose the essence of ourselves

we hate to be defined

we hate that’s just how it is

we hate to see through the end

And we know eventually it’s impossible to get someone love and hate us like we do to ourselves

So we’re desperately alone,

madly obsessed, 

constantly disappointed.

In fact, if life supposed to be painful and meaningless,

Why on earth shall we take the efforts to chase happiness

Ideally the source of happiness comes from who we are, what we own and what others sees us

In another word, the happiness come from our identity, our belongings and our reputation.

But usually the later two are out of our control 

and always lead us into frustration

Because the frustration comes from our over-expectation

Actually we don’t own anything , anything at all,

On the contrary, the things we own usually own us.

As for our reputation, we know no one will gives us approval unless its a lie

they might need us to do something for them

Simply because if they convince how good we’re, leaves them no choice but to believe how sucks they’re.

here we are, 

if we aren’t what we own, 

Neither are we what they say,


Who are we?

What makes us us?

And if our mind is playing with us, 

mostly we are trapped not by others, but by ourselves


We are the prisoner of our own prison

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