You harbor an ideal in your mind,
and yet the world is not idealistic.
You've got to compromise, day after day, with reality.
Why can't people show empathy when they give inquisitive look?
Why can't people be considerate by not asking questions?
Why can't people get out of that very vicious cycle of repeating a cetain
norm of a script of life, where "a happy life" is documented?
being born in this world without choice . . .
growing up . . .
following the gender norms . . .
meeting expectations from parents, self, important others, the society . . .
getting married . . .
giving birth to another being . . .
looking back on one's life . . .
moving toward the unknown . . .
I stand here, seemingly alone, whining . . .