When I’m not smiling, people ask if I am okay. My eyes are naturally shaped in a droopy way so that when I have a straight face I actually look sad. At least that’s what I always blame.
In reality I always have an inexplicable sadness. I really plow through life like I’m walking through Jell-O. I slip I fall; I climb up but am dragged down. Somehow I am okay with it.
I project myself as confident, inspired, determined a true leader. I take numerous responsibilities in school, at home, and at work. I always take the extra step.
Truly I just strive to stay busy, to run forward even when my mind and body cannot handle it. Only to avoid the ugly sadness that runs through my blood, controls my thoughts, and adds weight to my weakened arms and legs.
What better form of inspiration than the subtle motivation birthed from the fear of negative spirits controlling me.
And so, to the world it may seem as though I have it all in my hands. I have everything figured out. I am doing more at my age then they think is possible to handle. My performance is impeccable.
To me it is never enough. Because for the few minutes I have to spare alone with my empty mind behind a curtain in the smoke I ponder on everything and am reminded that I am nothing.
Next time I am caught without a smile on my face, notice that it is the real me. No titles, no strength, no stability… Just me.