Cliched

I am fighting my very own cliche.

I am worth it. I am strong and powerful. I am my own woman. I deserve a love that is real and true. I deserve good health and normalcy. I deserve reality. I deserve facts and fiction every now and then. I deserve - no, I demand success.

I am a ladle in a bowl of gold. Dip me and I shine. Raise me and I am full. Empty me and still, I'm valuable. I am a conglomeration of things, both good and bad, baffling and scientific. I make no apologies for what I am and who I am as a person. I don't need people to validate me. I don't need reality to bite me in the ass so I know what I am doing.

I can survey and examine. I am powered by the mind that nature gave me. I can discern right from wrong. I have ethics. I can fight off ridiculous thoughts. I can wipe away bad memories.

I am enduring. I can face pain. I have several times and I am bound to encounter more. I know that endorphins can fight prostaglandins and I'm not afraid to use happy memories to fight the hurt. Nor am I worried that I'll run out of drugs. The pharmaceutical world can be very quick to fight that which afflicts people the most.

I can sleep soundly under a car, on a rickety chair, a very oddly-shaped couch and even amidst the bustle of Ortigas traffic. Yes, this means I have peace. I want to be at peace all the time. Less anger, less arrogance, less baggage, more peaceful more real, more me.

I want to spiritual, which should not be confused with being religious. I want to connect to the deity in my head.

I desire my life to go the way I want it to.

I want to be complete...