Letter to Myself #1 Destroying something Beautiful

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Dear future me who is reading this,

I like the sensation of destroying something beautiful.

If I see a beautiful face, I want to carve on it with a blade. If I see a beautiful building, I want to tear it apart brick by brick with my bare hands. I wish I had that power.

Or maybe I do, only I destroy intangible beautiful things and while it may fulfill the purpose, there’s not much satisfaction in it. 

Maybe I am broken. Maybe I just like to pretend to be. It makes you so much real and gives you substance where normality makes you boring. Vice versa depending on who you are. Broken or normal.

I read somewhere that only broken people like reading as if they’re breathing air.

I can’t remember when I last read a book like that. Actually, I do. It was Murakami’s Sputnik sweetheart and Love in the time of Cholera by Marquez before it.

But I was different then. I had given away the broken pieces of myself to others and was shoving things down the holes and cracks left behind.

Then I thought I found someone who’d take care of those pieces..the cracks, I tried filling in by whatever positive means I could. I tried emptying the trash I had thrown in myself. But before I could, I saw what I had done.

I had destroyed something beautiful..that something being myself. Torn down my own bricks to hand over the pieces to someone else. The trash I thought I threw in the holes turned out to be gems..that filled me up like a treasure chest.

So when I scraped out the fillings that suffocated my cracks, and pulled out the treasure from the bottom of my core, realisation hit at what I had done.

The destruction of something real in itself is quite terrifying but alluring.

But that also depends on who you are. Broken or boring.

I don’t think anyone truly broken can ever be mended. The temporary fixes would come off the hinges.. the broken pieces would shift either closening the gaps or widening them. But they would never truly fit in back in their spaces.

In the meanwhile, all you could do is wear your heart on your sleeve, see the treasure not as trash and become as balanced between broken and boring as would stop the destruction of something.. beautiful.


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