Aaliyah Abarca | Writer
Finding inspiration is sometimes a difficult thing for me to achieve. I look around and see blurs in the sky in a grayscale world. It makes me wonder where the color goes when I step outside or if the vibrance shows through while I’m asleep.
It’s an ongoing feeling of being stuck in this loop of desperation and numbness. Wanting so badly to make every day work and, no matter how dull the environment may seem, finding the little bits of positivity sprinkled beneath the surface.
I know it exists; I’ve felt it before.
Memories of white noise and bliss. The ability to breathe and not suck in the endless debris of life– the stress, the aches, the pain— Memories of laughter– genuine laughter. Memories of knowing for a fact that the people I surrounded myself with were honest and trustworthy– my safe space.
It’s out there somewhere. The balance that life offers.
Finding it can be a journey, but good or bad, it’ll be worth it. I’ve been on it for some time now, and it’s supposed to be better. It’s supposed to bring me some clarity and peace. It’s supposed to work.
It comes in waves– the clarity. Where I can finally be the person that everyone around me needs me to be. I can be the role model, the energy, and the supporter. I can “be happy.”
But what I want is to just be me– and for that to be good enough, no matter my surroundings.