There was this girl who gave up her dream of becoming a writer because her parents didn’t want her to pursue it. There was this girl who gave up on herself and was living someone else’s life.
She now wanders in the wilderness of her dead soul, looking for the slightest hint to find herself. Not knowing that this baggage she has shackled herself with, is wearing her down, she carries the burden every day. She keeps her stained windows shut, her heart wants to fly again, but she won’t listen to it anymore.
One day, she drowns down in a roller coaster of her thoughts. She sees it’s baggage that’s pulling her down. She drowns, not grasping what’s happening, she struggles to come up. In a one-sided fight with the baggage, she sees her lost self.
Her lost self, a fearless writer, is everything she ever wanted to be.
She is sitting down in the wilderness and writing her hearts out. Living a new life to her thoughts with every stroke of her pen. She stares at the fearless writer, questioning, could I be this person? She stares at the fearless writer, realizing how much she has let herself down.
Is this her chance for redemption? Is this her chance of breaking the shackles of parents, people, and society to live a life that she wants?
I want to remind this girl dreams are a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.
This is a story of that girl who gave up her dreams only to realise to never let them go.
This is a story of that girl who gave up on herself only to realise she should put herself first.