Real

Some people put up masks pretending to be someone they are not. But I cannot be like, my conscious emits guilt vibes when I even try or think of being untrue. I own my feelings, my mistakes, my pain, anxiety and passion. They all make me a real person and I am a better person for it. I try to project positive, happy vibes because generally that’s who I am. I don’t do well with lying or faking it. Perhaps that sparks anxious times but I’d rather be facing the pain instead of putting it away. Because what I feel is real and that’s a good thing.

I am a real person, a woman who is educated and opinionated but everyone needs to stand for something. We merge together like constellations but we never touch without honesty and reality and a little bit of hope. I am a flawed person, I am not perfect and I would never want to be. Flaws and imperfections make you real as joy and happiness do.

I feel things deeply, I sing loudly and dance in public. I wear bright colours and band t-shirts but I am insecure and have a mind that is constantly on the go. I cannot swallow tablets and I have a fear of flying but that makes me real. Sometimes I hide and sometimes I hide and sometimes I need affection and attention. I don’t need the limelight but I like to be appreciated.

I struggle with my job and my body frustrates me but smiles and hugs make the world a bit brighter. I’m afraid of relationships – to fall in love and have my heart broken. I’m a little obsessive and I need organisation, crave structure and security but I’ll blast my car stereo and sing as loud as I can.

I’m learning to like myself, because I must be real as is the world I occupy that is set on destroying my dreams and wishes. I’m seeking positive vibes and the people to inspire it.

I need this real stuff, it enriches my life and encourages me to be true while extending the way I push myself in order to achieve and succeed. In being real I know there are errors ahead and hurdles to jump which actually I can overcome.

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