If one day my memory cease to be, then let it be embraced with grace. I don’t need to be as strong as I was, or even as smart as I became. Let me be ignorant and happy. If there is a man who wants to take care of me; let him make me the happiest woman alive. It doesn’t matter how smart he is, or any other criteria I need to admire him as it is; as long as he’s good to me and loves me unequivocally and wholeheartedly: he can be my hero. Let us live a happy and simple life, in our little home amidst the purity of the nature.

If I ever become confused in life, let me remember that I have everything in me that I need in life. Let the details be part of the past forgotten, as long as I know that I am capable of enduring hell and not simply surviving it, but exiting a hell lot stronger than when I entered. Let me remember that a powerful woman does not need her worth to be validated by another person’s opinion. That I am capable of doing anything I set my mind to, that I need not doubt my own capabilities. Let me remember that I am perfect just the way I am. Have faith and courage to make my dreams come true.

But we wrote down everything to give word and meaning to the feelings felt on the roads (not) taken, the choices (un)made, and the lessons (un)learnt. To remember everything we wish we could forget. To become more superior than our previous selves. For what? What is the meaning of wanting things so meaningless, like most material things in life? Seducing one’s to acquire more financially, indulging in increasing luxury, power, and beauty; forgetting the true purpose of life. What it is, I feel too confused to acknowledge. It probably differs per person. It probably is a quest one spends an entire life discovering, just to realise at one’s final breath that there was never any meaning to begin with.

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