Alcazar Of An Amateur Scribbler!!!

June has never been kind to me  not since last year. There’s this heaviness in my chest again, like I’ve lost a battle no one saw me fight. And yes, I failed. For the second time, I scanned that list and my name  wasn’t there. It stung. More than I wanted it to. I felt the weight of silence. The kind that follows you when everyone remembers you as “the academically gifted one.” That child  the one they used to speak of with pride, she’s tired. Tired of carrying those big, shining words on her slouched shoulders. Tired of pretending resilience is her second skin. But rest? That’s a luxury I can’t afford. Not yet. I’m trying  trying to process, to breathe, to remind myself that this isn’t the end. That other doors still exist. But I hesitate. I don’t want to lose sight of my goal  not let anything, anyone, become a distraction. Still, the pieces are scattered. I don’t know how to fit them back together. But I’m not quitting. Even...

When I was born, I was handed a name, a race, a gender role, an entire identity I never asked for. It was like being cast into a story I didn’t write, expected to follow rules I didn’t agree to. But I grew up, awkwardly at first, trying to fit in, trying to make sense of it all. Eventually, I stopped trying. I started rewriting the script. Now, I’ve begun to convince the people around me to get used to my so-called “weird” personality. I’ve started caring less about what they think. And things, surprisingly, have started to move in a better direction. I choose. That’s the difference now. I choose to be an atheist. I choose to be a feminist. I choose not to date, not to marry, not to have kids. I choose to live by what makes sense to me, not what was expected of me. And in making those choices, I’ve started to feel something like freedom. Of course, I know freedom is never complete. There are things we live with. Not because we want to, but because we can’t change everything. Still, I c...