UNTITLED EPITOME

I am a painter… I paint the beauty of life through every stroke I make. I give color to every dull picture and I give life to the inanimate feature in every piece of paper. I create a masterpiece that touches every person’s soul….I paint life.

I am a writer… I inspire the other half of the globe with the thoughts I have in mind. I awaken every sleeping hollow that have become dummies and captives of this modified world. I write essays, stories, novels, and any other kinds of manuscripts that would intensify the emotion of existence…. I write life.

I am a child… obedient to the wants of my parents. I do whatever pleases them. I study hard to attain good grades in payment of all the hardwork they have done to raise me. I fulfill my duties as a daughter to make them happy and for them to be proud of me…. My parents are my life.

I am a slave…a person who has made herself a captive of this insincere society. I paint not to please myself but to fulfill the wants of every criticizing eye. I write not in accordance with my principles but to satisfy the interest of every reader. I fulfill my parents’ wants not because it makes me happy but because I don’t want to ruin the name they had made of themselves and to not put them to shame.

I am a slave…I have lost my identity and was driven by the dictates of this merciless world. I am ashamed because of the person I have become… my soul is dead. I lost my life.