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,
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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