Fragile Figurine

Society dictates what is right and what is wrong. We have certain principles. Rules. Laws –the way everything should go.

Few have dared to break the rules, few have dared to be different, and few have had the courage to break away from the norm.

It is a relentless pursuit of escape, not from reality and society, but from ourselves. We built prisons for ourselves, and kept ourselves locked inside them. We’ve confined ourselves with everyone’s expectations of us. We are too afraid and too unwilling to correct other people’s imaginings.

People have a massive imagination. To the point where they’ve imagined other people as something perfect, to the point where they’ve created an illusion of a perfect fragile porcelain figurine. And there starts the expectations, there start the perfection. There starts the imprisonment, the confinement. There starts the end.

And you let them. You let them imagine you as someone you’re not. You let them dictate what you should and should not be. You let them push you to heights you could never have reached. But in the end, you have reached their expectations. You have been exactly what they want you to be. You’ve become a figment of their imagination. You’ve become the fragile figurine everyone admires, an art piece made by the imagination of other people. Not yours. Theirs. Not you. Them.

You are no longer you. There is no you. There is only what they’ve created. There are only expectations. Imaginations. Perfection.

How long have you existed? How long since you’ve been made to the beautiful masterpiece you are now? How long since you’ve lost your voice? Your strength? Your will? How long have you been their fragile figurine?

How long have you stopped living? You’ve made decisions for the better, for their betterment. Not yours. Theirs. Not you. Them.

When will you learn that you can hold the brush and paint your own masterpiece? When will you learn that you’re an artist? When will you learn that you’re not a mere sculpture –a mere dummy, mere clay anyone can turn into pots?

You are more than that. And you know it. But, it’s just so hard to be something you shouldn’t be. Isn’t it? You’ve been the fragile figurine everyone has always admired. If you become otherwise, everyone will hate you. Everyone won’t like you anymore. You’ll be thrown away. Exiled, cast aside. Left, abandoned. But see, what they really liked wasn’t you.

Everything will come with a price to pay –a trade, a bargain. There’s always something in exchange. Will it be worth it to be hated in exchange for living your own life? Will it be worth being abandoned if you were free?

Yes. Break free from your chains. Break free from your prison. From the cell you yourself built. Break free. Who says you can’t? Who says you won’t? Who says it’s wrong? Who says it’s right? Who says you shouldn’t? We all have to rebel at some point. We all have to break the walls. Break the fragile figurine everyone wants and imagines us to be.

You’re not fragile. You’re not dainty. You’re strong. You are yours. Not theirs. It’s you. Not them. Shatter their sculptures. Break their imaginations.

You. Are. Not. Theirs.


Again another composition from my early years of writing. When I discovered writing as my escape, I poured out all my emotions and my thoughts on paper. I bled it all out until there was no more. I wrote until the storm calmed. So if you notice, there’s a lot of angst –something I wasn’t really used to but reading this again made me shiver in fright. I forgot that I was capable of so much anger. Or that I was capable of holding it in for so long.

It’s amazing how much time can change us. I barely recognize this girl who wrote this. I feel so different. I wish I still had the same determination to keep fighting for myself. I wish I still had that yearning to live.

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