Yes, I’m fine. I am good. I have everything I want – money, a house, a car, a job, a family.
I am healthy. I am beautiful. I have a good place in the society. I have it all – everything that was tagged as ‘successful’ by our society. Officially I’m so happy and thrilled to have it all. People look at me with envy for what I have. I am the model in the kids’ dreams for growing up just like me…
Officially, I’m so happy and thrilled to have it all. People look at me with envy for what I have and awe for what I did. I am the model in the kids’ dreams for growing up to bath in the bloody war of success…
I did whatever I was taught to do. I was good, obeying all the rules to climb up the latter of society.
I know, it’s perfect. And yet, why am I so empty in my own perfection…?
I’m on top. I make the rules. I pull the strings, I spin the wheel – which I built with my bleeding freedom…
But up there… up there is only the sound of pressing power, which threatens me with rebellion, for which I have to work, night and day, to keep at bay…
There is only the wind of loneliness and the emptiness of my heart… Who am I, if not the puppet of own’s success…?
I am naked, in front of my soul, and only I can truly see myself…
