The Book of Forbidden Feelings

I want to grow up but my soul doesn't seem to be very excited about it. Maybe she's lying. She's just a soul. One day she says, "Get up, lazy cat! You have to live your day proud and loud!" but another day she whispers, "So tired, can we just stay at home all day, call in sick, write and ugly poem, and be busy being invisible?" I can't control her. I'm just a body. She's the thinker. She's so inconsistent and always has this thirst for attention and celebration for herself. She makes me busy seeking for distractions. She never counts me in her future plans, she's too busy shouting meaningless motivational sentences or killing my confidence in a very lo whisper, like wind in December, "You're not good enough."

(Lala Bohang)