Sunday, 7 December 2014


Sometimes I take the wrong bus and get out at the university. I'm always anxious to be back on my way, because the students remind me of all those people seeking solace in their 9-5, and how little room there is to think independently, even at a so-called institution of higher learning.
The world was not made for the likes of me, with my aversion to tradition and blatant disregard for normality. I have a voice, but that voice is very marginalised. Nevertheless, I'm proud of the initiative I take, of my readiness to be heard, my willingness to stand up and be counted. Somehow, in my own little way, I make a difference.
Today I read that people with left-wing views are less likely to hurt others. It makes me proud of myself. Not that it's something new, but still - you don't hear these sort of things every day. It reminds me how special I am. (Here is the article. )


My face is but a blur to me
I can gaze upon it endlessly
But when I step away from the mirror
I still feel like a Picasso

A girl and guy, today
They called me 'honey'
And I didn't feel deserving
Of the simple compliment

People tell me I'm good-looking
But it doesn't sink in
I'm full of self-loathing
For the body I'm in

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