"How hard it is to stand naked in front of the crowd and let them see the scars from your awful past— the same crowd who scarred you?”
Her.
Bullying has always been a part of me. It was as if I was existing to be the center of insulting teases. I grew up thinking being bullied was normal on daily basis. I believed it was okay because they were my friends— or that was what I thought so. I was too naive for my own good that they started to take my innocence for granted. And reaching my first year as a teenager, that's when it slowly sank into my mind that I've been a victim of society's cruelty.
Sky.
It took a toll on my mental health as I made friends with Death. I became too fond of him that I started calling him a few times to bring me in his home. Death said yes but my parents wouldn't let me come with him. I became child-like, wanting my parents to free me from my distress. But on last attempt, I took a glimpse of the sky hovering over me that I didn't even budge when Death tried to pull me out from my reverie.
It was dancing and making images above me as if it knew I was admiring its beauty. The pull was too strong and I just found myself falling in love with it. I forgot about my friend Death and focused on the sky that no doubt enthralled me without even trying.
I was awestruck. And it was the first time after losing my innocence that I appreciated something as beautiful as the sky. That day, I realized one thing:
I found something worth living for.
Augenblick.
It was a moment that changed a my whole viewpoint in life. It was even more beautiful at night. With the moon and the stars, it created a new hope for me that there is always something as beautiful as the sky waiting for me each single day.
I started to take pictures of it, put it in an album, and stare at it when I feel like my world's crumbling down again.
It was a moment in a lifetime that I'd always willingly exchange with extravagant possessions in the world, for the fact that it brings out the best in me in moments I feel like I am the worst was priceless.
Belleza.
Along with my age, I also started to grow as an individual. I became a flower blooming alone in a dead garden. I strived hard to be the better version of myself for the betterment of my whole being— as a student, a friend, a daughter, and as me, the flawed me. I managed to stand on my own and start walking a journey I long decided to forget after stumbling down several times. I took the path I chose for myself even after society's persistence to drag me back towards its so-called identity and life for me.
But my resilience triggered my demons to resurface and mock me for my bravery to defy a whole crowd of selfish hyenas. And as I started to pick up the broken pieces of my soul, things went rocky again.
The Weaver.
I got tripped a few times a long the way. I've had a fair share of what ifs and come what mays that got stockpiled inside my mind until it became angry tears. Days, weeks, months passed by and my thoughst just got even more wilder that I had a hard time putting them in leash like a lion; a predator ready to eat you alive without mercy. With a heavy but hopeful heart, I looked for comfort from writing.
And there came the name Shanny Belleza.
A fantasy writer in Wattpad who created home for her readers who also wanted to escape from their reality even just for a moment. A writer who spends her time inside her room, jotting down messy dialogues in a scratch paper using an used HBW pen, getting lost in the world where she and her thoughts are the only ones existing. A writer who also use lame poetic lines and cliché aesthetic photos to add life in her almost-dull existence.
A writer who thinks so much of herself for reaching thousands of hearts and helping them create a path towards finding their selves.
Isn't that what I’m supposed to do? To be someone who could give comfort to other people because I knew how hard it is to be living up to the society's expectations to such extent of losing our identity.
I became a writer in Wattpad who uses the genre Fantasy as an excuse to escape reality and a writer in Facebook who slaps readers about real-life realizations.
Yes, the irony.
And it worked well for me because it kept me sane in times when my inner demons were making fun of my distress. It molded me as someone I am today. Not just a writer, but a survivor and a warrior who managed to play with the twisted games of life.
I became my own plot twist, and that is who I’ve become.
Memento Vivere.
And in the end of the day, I always stop in my tracks, admire an enchanting phenomenon in front of me— as the blue sky turns orange— with a genuine smile spread across my face, thinking I made it today and I'm going to make it again tomorrow with a few people who believe in me, including sir 