Life in a circle

My life is a circle that my parents have drawn for me, and that I have drawn for myself. Things go back and force when the circle moves, yet within a circle, what can be seen ahead is always a border. The circle does not grow bigger when I grow bigger, and that makes life harder to bear. The circle moves, though sluggish, up... down...down... up. I thought I had been used to this seemingly endless spinning movement, but I am not. I feel dizzy. I no longer want to move in a circle. I want to move in a half-moon. A half moon does not create a sense of being enough. A half-moon is promising to grow fuller. A half-moon does not roll but fly. So... I am going to turn an empty circle into a half moon: BREAK THE BORDER AND GO FULLER INSIDE.

My life is a game with myself being a bad player. I win when I am lucky and lose when it is inevitable. Whenever I attempt to play a trick on someone, I am paid back more pain and tear. I should know myself better, but it is so luring that I cannot resist. I am in, and out painfully. When the game is over, the blame remains.

My life is a not-well-written composition. It starts clumsy and ends awkward. The ‘flowery” does not make it any beautiful. The “complicated” does not make it any intellectual. Nor does the "odd" make it any mysterious. After all, it is written for me, or I am the only reader, and the only sufferer.

I AM AN " IMAGINER"