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Mixed feelings, what do I choose today? Scrolling through my concepts, what am I up to? I don't know, help me choose:

Sad, happy, regret, mad, crazy.

Dizzy, lost control, rushing through everything, every second different, the variety overwhelming. Better run away, you're not up for the ride. You can't handle me, neither can I.

Too much for everyone. I'm in my own league, above upper class can't pass the border, unique only. Get lost, you don't match my concept. Let me introduce the wonder called me:

Don't fit in a form, born with a fire instead of a heart. I'm from another kind, and can't tell it often enough, because people tend to forget, to judge without reason. So let me put it differently:

I'm not fitting you? Guys, you don't suit ME, that's something else. Look at the facts, hear what I have to say, have been quiet for too long, now deal with the consequences. Shut up, don't tell me to change, to blend in. Some colors are too strong to fade in. Giving up diamonds for being a dull stone? Hah! No thanks.

You should thank me for thinking the way I do. I would steal the spotlight, just like that, no effort needed. Sorry, I can't change my DNA. Some things are better not to be touched. Sadly, they even try to mess with the laws of nature. Let them do, let them try. They'll have to pay the price, handle the repercussions. One of them is me. Even my enemies are afraid and yes, I'm bragging.

In the growing gray mass, overflowing equality, where no one is heard, they try to stop me. Moments of weakness, when the flood is too strong, the stream drags me away. I look in the mirror, facing myself, facing reality:

I'm not the same, was never and will never be.

So I'm reaching for everything I have, even the smoldering spot that is left in my chest.

Don't blame me, it's ridiculous. You started the game, I just took my place. Tsunami against the stream.

My concept is handpicked, delicate. Never compare us, that´s the real insult. Armies tried and failed, do yourself a favor and spare your energy. You need it to reach a level at which I can at least see your outline. Climbing so high that everything starts to vanish, sorry. Don't be sad or mad. Not everyone has been chosen to rip the world apart, to make a change. Just a few strong enough standing together, building the front, using their voice.

The only thing I feel sorry for: making you jealous. But what can I do?

It's my concept. A crown I am born with.

© Anna Vuletic 2022-08-31


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