Page 20 - 2nd Issue_Newsletter_online

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As you step onto the stage, every eye in tightens as you notice your peers scattered
the auditorium turns to you, their gazes throughout the room, each one maintaining
burning like spotlights. The late nights a perfect posture, their bodies rigid within
spent shuffling through textbooks flash an unyielding facade. In that moment,
through your mind, transforming your the veneer of perfection crumbles, revealing
once vibrant dream of art into fragmented a tapestry of unconscious falsehoods.
visions. Instead, you’re the perfect student,
the one everyone adores. Top grades? Compelled by an urge that breaks through
Re sp onsible b ehav iou r? A de c i sive the suffocating layers of expectation,
demeanour? You have them all. You’re you reach into your bag and pull out a
considered a student leader, expected to coloured pencil. The mask screams in
serve, guide, and inspire. protest, a cacophony of sharp criticism.
“Stop! Kill your hobby! Do not jeopardize
But behind this facade, joy seeps away, this pristine image!” But you shut out
leaving a hollow echo, as each smile you the intrusive whispers, lost in the moment
wear feels crafted. As you stand there as you let your inner artist take control.
giving your speech, the strong words With each stroke, your pencil dances
that tumble from your mouth cannot across the page, as unrestrained as the
d row n out t he relent less wh ispers. feelings swirling within you.
Shadows of sel f-doubt claw at you r
confidence, towering like monstrous You glance down at your creation, a chaotic
giants, murmuring harsh judgments. yet honest display of your heart’s longing.
“You’re not good enough,” they hiss, It may not be a masterpiece, but what it
“too aggressive. We don’t like you.” embod ies ref lec t s you: a n ex plorer
navigating the maze of perfectionism in
The mask wraps around you once more, a world that demands conformity.
amplifying the confrontations. “Please
them all,” it urges. Just like a marionette As if sensing your defiance, the mask
on strings, a smile unfurls against your quivers uneasily on your face, and in a
will, even as every fiber of your being moment of clarity, you decide enough is
knows it’s anything but genuine. enough. You peel it away, the sensation
both liberating and terrifying. This is
The prefect badge hangs heavily, like a not meant to be. “Why must we always
yoke drawing your shoulders down – a pursue a version of ourselves that pleases
tangible representation of the persona others?” you ask the stillness around you.
y o u’v e c r a f t e d . Ye t t h e b u r d e n o f “Why can’t we embrace who we truly are
maintaining it feels unbearable. You
stand as a paragon of perfection, yet the instead of molding into the perfect child
vibrant spirit that once danced freely is e ver yone ex pec t s u s to be? W hy is
trapped, yearning to brea k free t he imperfection treated like a crime, while
shackles of a life no longer your own. our stories of sorrow are left untold? Why
must we listen – why must we conform?”
As you retreat to the sanctuary of the You return to your drawing. A genuine
library, the chaos of the outside world smile breaks free, rippling like the first
fades, replaced by a comforting silence dawn. Sincere, vibrant, and beautifully
that envelops you like a warm blanket. chaotic, because it is truly yours and no
Then your gaze shifts, and your heart one else’s.