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Loneliness in Mixed Colors

I don't know since when I've stopped fighting, but I've just realized that I've given up on this battle with Marvel.

He had been filling his cup with cold malice and making cruelty alright with his twisted logic. I bet it was fun for him to watch me suffer. This bitter feeling was a failure to defend myself, and I had missed seeing my own emotions with true clarity after being hurt so very much.

But now, I know that my battle is always with myself.

I wasn't born for great things, nor to find my place on the top. I could try every day, and work for what I needed, but there were almost no paths to success, not from here. What I wanted would never come and no matter how hard I sought, I couldn't find it.

People talked as if I dreamed my way out, simply discovering a version of me that only saw opportunities and ignoring even morals, slipping away well-meant words, and giving out smiles that weren't real.

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