Bookmark #88

All my life I’ve heard platitudes about doors. Push them open, knock them down, and even make your own, if you’re so unfortunate to never come across one. True happiness, they said, lies beyond the figurative door. Yet, on a random day when I wasn’t feeling particularly peachy, I found my hand on the knob of a not-so-special door. For some reason, I stopped. Just then, I had an epiphany. I realised it was never about which side of the door I felt awry on rather, it was about the fact that something was amiss in the first place. I’ve never opened a door to escape how I felt ever since that day.

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