I Want To Leave

I can smell my impending freedom, like a prisoner about to be let out on early parole. Though, I do not know where I am heading to. I can see the iron gates, as I collect my belongings. There is freedom, just a few, bittersweet steps away. What is on the other side of that wall? Everything I dreamed of? Or an anti-climatic nothingness, staring at the ground before me in an unsettling silence.

For so long, I have unconciously let myself be validated by others, soaring to heights with their praises and then again, driven into the ground by their disapproval, or worse still, their indifference. Which leads me to question, just who the hell am I?

I have never been on my own. There has always been someone there to influence and guide me and to drive or gently push me into becoming the embodiment of what they hold true. Like a lamb, I willingly submit. It is easier to follow direction, blindly, than to blaze my own trails. As a result, I have come to depend rather heavily on others for said direction.

This leaves me to wonder. Do I perpetuate this, as a recognition and acceptance this is who I am? OR, do I rebel against it and take myself into uncharted territories, hopefully gaining myself amidst the clouds of uncertainty? Endeavouring towards 'freedom'? Or to a reclusive oblivion, with not a care for others, only for myself. Is it possible or even realistic to aim for some sort of middleground? Can I be true to both, while giving myself wholly to neither?

I want to be in my own place. Decorate it my own way, take care of it how I want to. Paintings of French cafes, comfortable yet sophisticated. Clean, with little clutter. I dont want to depend on anyone else for its upkeep or maintenance. It has to be small and simple, just a place to sleep and find refuge.