It's just a fairytale

Can a girl dream? Be a girl with ambitions, and always end up a woman who has made an honorable sacrifice.

by Daniel Kempe on Unsplash.com

It was like waking up to an overcast sky, still able to trace the melancholic beauty of it. Watching the dirt liquid go down the drain, and imagining its journey from beginning to end. It was like raking up leaves in the dry season and noticing every little twinkle (a sun-kissed message) between the leaves, and watching them fall slowly to the ground. Much slowly than anyone else around can see. It was like that. Unalduterated power and wonder before she discovered ego, compromise and sociology.

Go on. Make the sacrifice, drop the power you mistake for ego and ego you mistake for power, and scorn the girls who do not follow. Make it unbearable.

The sun-kissed messages, the silver linings, the raw energy, corrupted but thriving. No 'sacrifice' is made. There is oppression and when there isn't, there still is. Somewhere between dreaming and chasing, people go missing. Makes one wonder. Our noble sacrifice-rs, or better yet, our 'ritualists' may be right. Perhaps this is all just a fairytale. Perhaps. Perhaps.

But it doesn't stop the gnawing, the hunger, the sun-kissed messages. Then again, this is a death worth justification. It's just a fairy-tale.