I imagine a body of water, the ripples along the surface, clashing, interweaving within each other. Pondering what lies beneath it, yet seeing only what exists aloft.

When I conceal myself beneath the water, I suppress the essence of my truth. When I disguise my emotions, I camouflage the ideology of what I represent. I do a disservice to myself and to those I encounter along my life path. I am the one that suffers the most when I am the one that prefers to hide. If telling the truth feels out of place, I need to ask why I am discerning that way and why revealing the actuality feels wrong when it is right. Something within me is choked, barricaded, so much that I must create a fictitious world. A world that I acknowledge as truthful. But in reality, confronting and accepting the truth will set me free in the end.

If I choose to confront it, I can emerge from the water. The fervent or calm façade of ripples only exist beyond, because a body of water constantly but not permanently remains. If I decide to emerge from it, I am free. Free from it and free from myself.

So today, I will be who I am.

Aschalew plucked an orange rose, which turned to sand that sifted and meandered through her fingers before meeting the dirt between her feet. So, she plucked another, hoping that this second flower maintained its shape and beauty for her to admire a little longer. As she broke the stem from the bush, she pricked her middle finger along with its thorn.