Ten-Thousand-Layer Deep

some scars still burn when you touch it.

blood dried off, wound cleaned and taken care of, but memories that fused with the incident stays as fresh and raw as the meat in the wet market. as if it just happened yesterday.

4 years ago i made a choice that eventually landed me here. one decision that changed my life drastically. i could've been one of them today, wearing the square caps and celebrating 6 years of hardship and earn myself a Dr title.

i didn't regret my choice, yet i can't help feeling the pricks - not the strong intense pain as if someone punched you in the face (or for guys get kicked in the balls), but more like having a cactus sticking in your bosom. not enough for you to cry out loud yet just enough for you to be completely aware of the irritation/discomfort. which in a way is worse than the intense yet short pain. i'm not even sure if i'm making sense now, eeesh. :/

all the finger-pointing, different viewpoints, wrongful accusations, adamant self-convinced beliefs, disapproving looks, disappointed expressions, liters of silent tears. all of those are just as fresh as the basil and mint leaves my 'surrogate momma' brings in from her garden right before she wants to prepare a meal. those are spools of memory threads that are hard to forget.

i take a deep breath and tell myself not to remember.
eyes shut. tight. i'll count to three and everything will dissipate. or will it? i'll count to five, just in case.
focus on right now, focus. i can do it. or can i?

you see that girl in that quiet corner, squatting down with her arms wrapped around her knees and face buried in the little hole she made for herself? that's me. insecure insignificant and invisible. (well almost.)