Art of an Islet

Art of an Islet
By Aisaia Jay Toral When the dark mantle of being forlorn had been laid in the sky for some time now, it covered the sun rays that give hope to the saddened heart. However, as I became used to it, this fear turned out to be my advantage to find courage and confidence and to know myself well. They say life is hard meant to be enjoyed. They claim life is unjust. They pronounce no one is an islet. But they were all wrong. In my own perspective, life is easy to enjoy, fair enough, and there’s always somebody whose destiny is meant to be journeyed alone. I am no exemption. Indeed, it must be recalled that strangers who came into my life had soon became my friends but later, leave no remarks of bidding farewell. Definitely I know that I am with no problems with other people, so I get magnets to them. But at the end, I was hurt and any sorts of pain were so stubborn in which I can’t manage. But being alone and depriving myself from having fun has come to end. Of being an islet for a while made me more acquainted with its art. The pains which I have received from past relationships became my inspiration to enjoy life to the fullest. At first, I wasn’t aware of becoming a better person after my down falls, however after a moment or two, I become conscious that my weakness might transpire to be my strengths. That was the art that I’m talking about. When I was alone, I heard the echo of my inner voice cheering up for my lowered self-esteem. This was the first time that I heeded to that sound of silence since every time I’m with somebody’s company, this voice don’t rub off on me. This isn’t madness. This is the one of the many insights I’ve got after being deprived and devalue. This voice had sculpted who I am in this world more than anything. As I was able to find out I was already putting a certain distance, not measured in my lengths, from old friends who unintentionally had brought me down and exposed my insecurities. I know from myself that it’s