26.10.2002 | 5:24 p.m.
this here is the definition of my life...

On the 17th of November, 1983, at 8:57 p.m, naivete and cynicism attacked a flailing baby, and consumed her in equal portions. They never quite agreed with one another - it left her in a state of perpetual confusion, much like a child of divorced parents. Today, however, she is feeling a sense of unadulterated, inexplicable happiness that hasn't graced her in years.

Over the last week or so, I've actually been feeling good about myself. It is more than just a submissive action on my part. It isn't just desperate self-acceptance. It is pride. I remember, a few months ago, sitting on the bench by the graveyard at ungodly hours, sifting through all the ugliness, frantically hoping to find a vestige of beauty, of goodness, of worth. Each time, I failed miserably and held myself as I cried silently with the wind. I lost faith in my humanity. I lost faith in the ability of others to salvage my dying self from the ruins of life that lay scattered, limply.

"I love you regardless of the way you're acting, Auri..." he said so sweetly, I had to push him away so that I wouldn't hurt him more than I already had.

"You're not stupid. You're allowed to feel this way after everything you've been through." It was her birthday the day she told me this. We sat on the terrace; she wiped the tears from my face maternally and placed her hand on mine.

"Totally objectively,Auri,,you're amazing. Some day you'll see it too, I fucking promise you..."

"You're just the most beautiful person I know..."

I never realised what an impact those words had had on me. I always thought they had peeked into my consciousness, decided they didn't belong there, and then scurried away. But last night, I realised just how tenacious those words were. You see, these days, sometimes, just sometimes, Aurina wears her rose-tinted glasses.

deja vu? | jamais vu?