KasaiNeko has a minion!

KasaiHebi the Fire-Oubi

They raised me to be traditional. Learned the arts, music, rituals, prayers and promised to keep to myself. For years that is what I did. It was persona I adopted and accepted as my own personality. To them it was always about being prim and proper. I was treated like a delicate flower. One that was fragile and beautiful but cherished for fear of wilting.

At first I made a living off writing delicate and sensible poetry. It was a humble and earnest means but as the market died on that I had to move on. I still lived with my parents and so I tried to put my writing out there in new ways. I transitioned to working for a magazine company writing articles but from a cubicle.

In my co-workers eyes I was just the silent blue-eyed-doe. I was quiet, watchful and to some beautiful for the sheer fact I hardly wore any makeup. I learned from them that I wasn't myself. I was more than just another shy girl. See it is different writing in the privacy of your parent's home, to writing in an office building. I had a chance at social interactions, which meant I had to try and create some friendships. However, in order to do that, I really had to first spend time getting to know myself. Thankfully once I got the job at the magazine I was able to afford something of my own.

When you're at home and it your home it is totally different. You know no one is watching or will disturb you. You don't stress or get afraid someone will bust in which in my case meant I could finally let loose. Having my own place lead to personal freedom. I got to stray from traditional without having glares and "ahems." Finally being able to listen to whatever I wanted. Who knew that "rock" actually has some merit behind its lyrics? It is like a new musical poetry I have yet to master for myself. Also those short shorts that make your legs look long. The ones that make it look as though you stand on stilts are actually quite comfortable?

To even remind myself of the fact that I had a personality, "a flame of my own" so to speak, I got a tattoo. I am sure my parents wouldn't be pleased but it is nothing too grand and is still plenty hidden. It is the kanji for fire on my left hip. It wasn't for rebellion but for myself and to only myself since it remains hidden pretty much everywhere outside the home.

While I take pride in the little victories I have over learning about myself I still have a long way to go. It all still remains very hidden but who knows? Maybe, after I am comfortable with the true me, I could make a friend and share that secret. Or I could just write it all away in my pieces to the magazine until someone figures it out.

Who knows?

Story by Permanent

Credits: coding and layout by Tilcara. Image by iiiis (livespace here.