The individual has always had to struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by the tribe. If you try it, you will be lonely often, and sometimes frightened. But no price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself.

β€” Friedrich Nietzsche

That knife that stabs your heart after you destroy someone else’s.

The bullet that pierces your brain when you insult someone else’s.

The echos that haunt your soul and life when you take someone else’s.

The feeling that tears you apart.

We all know it well at one point.


Penny for a thought, Dime for an idea

Sometimes I wonder what others could be thinking of me. My dress, how I carry myself, I find myself counting breaths rather than listening to who I’m talking to. Dragged into this strange hyper-aware state where I can’t help but smooth my blouse, lick my lips as I suddenly realize how dry they are, and I’m aware of my breathing, the tapping of my heel that echoes in my ears and the fact that I’m probably blinking too much.

Other times, I remind myself that I don’t care what other people think and I’m above all this.

These are the two settings I have, there is no in-between.

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