I have many fears—I’m afraid of conflict, afraid of uncertainty, afraid of failure, afraid of embarrassment, afraid of being useless to others.
I shrink back in front of these fears, surrounded and mocked by them.
I want to stand up, face them, put my hands on my hips and shout: Look me in the eye, you bastards!
But most of the time, it’s just a thought—I’m still crouching on the ground, hugging my knees and crying.
Are they really that powerful? Not necessarily. Just one punch and they’ll vanish like smoke.
But I still can’t do it. I’m used to this. When will I be able to change my appearance?
Those are not me, not me
Those are not me, to be hurt
Those are not me, not me
But how can I not think about it?
Those are all me
“Those Are Not Me” by Da Zhang Wei