When I was young, I pledged myself to a ninja.
He said, “I’m going to be hokage someday!” and with his enthusiasm I took his hand and walked with him to his journey.
When my mind matured, I realized I didn’t pledge to the ninja but to the idea,
To the idea that someday I could tell myself “I’ll never give up!” and carry the same eagerness he had with life.
But when he reached his goal and he had nothing to offer me, I let go and searched for a new anchor . . .
I was finishing through college when I promise myself to two British dorks.
It was the first time I understood what depression was, what it means to be an introvert and to see the world through your own innocence.
I laughed and I cried, I cringed and joined fanwars.
But when I outgrew the sarcasms and wholesome content, and grew tired of my reality, I thought maybe, magic is what I need . . .
I stumbled upon a boy with glasses and a scar, the whole world watch him grow, so I decided maybe I could too
So I read the books and watched the movies, plunged myself in the magic I believed could save me.
Sorted myself to houses, learned the lessons by heart.
But when the author and the book seem to have different principles in my eyes, I knew it’s time to walk out . . .
When I was comfortable being bisexual, I knew I’d ever love only one woman.
From a broodmare to a queen, from eggs to dragons, she made the color of fire and blood an art
There was no happy ending on sight but it was justice that I wanted for her,
Whether it be a throne or a lover, whatever it was that suited her.
But when her end was defined by betrayal of her character, with rage in my heart I left . . .
Now, I commit myself to seven Korean men who promised me they can save me with their music,
So I started building my world around them, hoping they would fulfill their vow like everyone before them
And so with that I moved onto another obsession, one after the other, further away from myself
When I was lost and had no anchor, empty and alone, I take a step towards anything I can anchor myself upon
Aphrodite might be looking down on me, she knew what passion could do but this might not be what she wanted for me,
Maybe someday she’ll come back, with her warm eyes and brave hands, “Darling, maybe it was love that you need”
Maybe just like her, I wished, that this time when the music isn’t loud enough to drown the emptiness and the words they say doesn’t reach me anymore,
Maybe by then I could take a step back, no matter how tiny it would be, and take the road back towards me