Sierra dozes off in a profound reverie while the sounds around her seem to haze out in her ears. A recurrence of the fresh events hits her heart. She feels light as if she’s levitating. Is she really drifting away from the real world? She feels tears avalanching down her cheeks and it feels like, as if they are vaporizing into thin air. She recollects how she was always besieged by people, people who told her that they loved her and would be with her no matter what. It wasn’t like she confided in all of them. But she had a trickle of people in her heart who were like a family to her. And now, here she is, all forlorn; not a single psyche around and feels stun and an abyss forming in her heart as she mulls over -
[An arbitrary page from a “pretty” girl’s thoughts:]
**The instant I started beaming and truly existing in this society, people have seen me as just some “pretty face”. I have been mediated, treated and rewarded based on my guise. Not to point out, but yes, that is society, and we have to live here. A lot might even think it’s just some whim or a frantic act of seeking attention. What can feasibly go wrong with being pretty? Nothing maybe; everything MAYBE. We’ve all been taught to ‘not judge a book by its cover’ right from the minute we start understanding words. But have we actually absorbed it? I agree, like everybody else, I am no angel. I have judged people based on how they look. But it’s always so diverse when apprehension hits you- subconsciously judging people and then realizing you’ve been doing the same when you sit and overthink everything through. It’s not all perfume and roses here. Being pretty too has its cons. I don’t intend to be mistaken for specifying beauty in terms of facial or physical features. I know what it truly is. At least, now I do. Prettiness and Beauty are actually worlds apart from each other. Prettiness is set up by medians of this society and is presumed to be an ‘ecstasy’ in everyone’s eyes (when it’s essentially not) while beauty is curbed to ourselves and what we feel about us and everyone around us. People can tell if you’re pretty but only a few can perceive the beauty that lies within you. Why is being pretty far from bliss, I say? When you’re pretty you’re always seen as some glossy, dainty item which might lose its value over time.
From the trice my heart started sensing those silly hormonal changes, I have been treated as just some commodity or a triumph. For once, I crave to be loved for who I really am on the inside; at some point, I even thought I was, but turned out my life was in fact on a loop this whole time. People think it’s easy to fall in love, to see someone’s beauty and fancy them. Guys be pursuing girls (or the other way around) for like a decade or so and feel like they are in love. It’s so much more than that! When you love someone, you love their real self, their virtues along with their blemishes. And when I say that people who are considered “pretty” have it the hard way, it’s because they have half-a-dozen wooers after them but it’s unknown if any of them are actually in love. Being adored and loved for my face or body, I can’t really say if you truly love me. Have you ever looked through my heart? Have you ever felt like you actually know who I really am? When you aren’t studied as pretty by the society and someone still falls in love with you, you can actually say that the person loves you for YOU; because there isn’t a filter keeping him/her from comprehending the real you. They know you from your heart and love your soul in its realest sense. Also, it’s not like people with a face-filter won’t have someone to truly love them. If a person sees through your filter and masks, you’d know it’s true. You’d know when he is always beside you, you’d know when he always comforts you, you’d know when he sees how you feel, you’d know when he cares for you, you’d know when he loves you, you’d know when HE STAYS!
Having a good heart is what I yearn the most. A good heart can love people and deserves all the love in the world. People are not born with a good or a bad heart. The goodness in you depends on you yourself, your actions and your thoughts. The goodness in you is mutable with each second. It’s you who can keep it persistent throughout. If you feel benevolent and if you feel the goodness in you, just know that you are loved. If not now, you will surely be, someday, because you deserve it. Just because you aren’t loved right this instant, doesn’t mean you let your desolation get the better of you. The goodness in you might help someone find the goodness in them.
Some of you might still be thinking it’s better to exhibit both loveliness and beauty in you. Maybe for some of you it might be but according to me, it’s not. I have lost people because of this “pretty” face. I’ve lost amities and I constantly hope that people don’t fall for my pretty face. It’s hardly the same when someone you trust and are friends with, tells you how they aspire to be more for you. Attractiveness might be a blessing to the material world but beauty is what the world actually needs. **
Sierra wipes off her tears and bizarrely doesn’t feel any pain in her body. It’s just her heart that’s still aching. “But that, too, will decease soon”, with these thoughts she closes her eyes trying recall all the pleasant moments she had, where she felt truly loved and important to someone. “I don’t know if I’m going to make it through, but I know, I don’t have to”.
Author’s POV- I don’t intend to differentiate people based on their looks or call someone attractive or ugly. These are just some thoughts in the back of my head that came pouring down in writing. I have no intention to hurt someone or judge them based on their looks. Also, I’m not aiming to make anyone feel ungrateful or self-conscious about themselves. Everyone should be comfortable in their own skin. It’s you who are blessed with it and no one can be You better than you yourself. Embrace who you are, and strive to be better than you were. And regarding this piece; it’s just a chunk of feelings that each of us have felt at least once in their lives but are too afraid to speak about it. There I said it! Now just relate❤️
michael_angela_petersonThis is so amazing I lack words. I need to tell you so many more people need to read this yrrrrr❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
nilayvation@michael_angela_peterson ikr it's been a while since I last wrote and now I decided to hit such a hard topic.. I wish it reaches ppl bc there are a lot of em who've lost faith in humanity and even themselves just bc they were judged
हमने आपकी रचनाएँ पढ़ी, वह सभी अद्वितिय हैं। हम आपको अपनी नई पुस्तक में सहयोग देने के लिए आमंत्रित करना चाहते हैं। पुस्तक आपके नाम के साथ प्रकाशित होगी साथ उसकी प्रतियां भी आपको दी जाएंगी। आपको सम्मानित करते हुए स्वर्ण पदक भी दिया जाएगा।
अधिक जानकारी के लिए संपर्क करें।
धन्यवाद Insta - kanis.hkasharma420 Mail - firstname.lastname@example.org
Sierra is spending her days in a hospital, probably the last days of her life. There's someone she wants to see before she leaves. "Where's he? Where's my Jay?", she mumbles in her sleep asking for Jayden. Hours have passed and there's no one to be seen beside her. She struggles to open her eyes and look beside her bed- A bouquet of flowers which has rotten over the past few weeks with a note that reads- "I can't. I'm sorry. -Love Jay"
Tears roll down Sierra's cheeks as she reads the note over and over again. "Was it me? Or my sickness?", she asks herself and struggles inside the sheets as she changes her position. Everything just seems heavy, in fact heavier than before. She has never felt so weak in her life, owing to her illness or absence of Jayden; she doesn't know. She thinks about their moments. They used to be so happy And all of a sudden, feels like they're struggling to be sad. "Did he stop loving me at some point?", a question that always meddles her thoughts. Will all her questions remain unanswered?
Out of the blue, a weird feeling crosses her chest. Her heart is racing. The machines beside her bed start beeping faster and in no time, a whole bunch of people come rushing inside. She is unable to make out what's going on. All she feels is a struggle to breathe while the world seems to blur out. She hears a familiar voice, "I love you". She sighs and struggles, whispering, "I love you more". She wonders if it was Jay speaking in person or in her heart. She struggles to look around but nothing is visible except a few colors of the world, as if painted by a child. She doesn't feel pain or joy. She can hear her heart beating faster with every second and then; just a deafening silence and everything seems to go black as she passes out...
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