Armuth Lili


I have always wished to be red. Resembling my passion, courage and sacrifice. The colour of the gaping hole in my underwear at the age of 12, that has never quite gone away. I embraced red, but deep down I never saw myself as such. I did not feel engulfed in crimson when I imagined my aura. I felt a deep connection with the colour, yet I always knew it was unattainable. So I wished to be green. Green, encapsulating my spirit, my jealousy and growth. But I knew I could never be quite green. I was too red to be green. Too green to be red. Then I tried not marking my identity with a single colour. However, not belonging is harder than pretending. Before I knew it, I had been green, I had been red, I had been magenta, blue, purple. My identity had no limits. I had lost myself, and that gaping hole had never been bigger. So I thought about filling it up, I wanted to extinguish my existence. Perhaps I was meant to be black, to absorb light, to absorb all colours. I thought, everyone must feel this way. Not everyone could possibly be just red or just green. How did everyone just..know? It felt as if the moment they were born, it had been stapled to their identity. Freedom is celebrated, they say freedom is what every individual is dreaming of. So why does my freedom feel so suffocating?


Envoyé: 11:42 Sun, 17 March 2024 by : Armuth Lili age : 17