The Story of I: A Woman of Extremes

I love passionately.
I hate murderously.
I feel intensely.

No lukewarm for me.  Like a pendulum I swing, Extremes are my abode.

Moderation repels me. Mediocrity scares me. I abstain from the status quo. Loggerheads with the Patriarchy. I often stir my daiquiri, people and situations alike with my sassiness. Sometimes I attract them, other times I intimidate them.

With an intuition sharper than piranha’s teeth, I intercept through their motives. Often vile. Sarcasm is fun when darted upon others. When mirrored tastes unsavory. A sonnet full of satires and puns, I bleed poetry. Anger dwells in my existence like a sleeping volcano. On eruption causes blisters full of insanity.

Like a chameleon, I adjust, I adapt, I adopt as per my surroundings. Losing myself intermediately.

Be good to me, I’ll be twice as good to you. Scratch my back and I rip you apart. Ironically, I forgive. I forgive too readily. Complex dichotomy weaves my being. The good and the bad wrestle each other hard. No matter who wins, I lose. I lose like a loser.

Flawed, forlorn, forbidden, life silently laughs at me. And I laugh harder. Self depreciating humour at work. It nullifies the jabs; shamelessly, unapologetic-ally, boldly.

I write fiercely. I dance till I burn out. I stay up at night till dawn shows up. I soak myself in everything till I’m drenched, flooded, washed ashore by its tide.

Lukewarm was never for me. Like a pendulum I swing. I’m a woman of extremes.

Written by: Priyanka Wali

Artwork by: Anthony Adams

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The Story of I

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