The standards I have set for myself are almost impossible to return from. I want a life burning with excitement, a life where my femininity is celebrated. In this diaspora I live, I just need to be great.
No one depends on me. I cling to myself like a sloth clinging to its tree. I have a future that hangs at the corner of my head, ready to burst into reality.
Without greatness in mind, I'm merely a breeze, another woman ready to be sold off for marriage. But I am nothing without the future I see. I canβt live live without the greatness I impeccably need.