Earlier today, I had half the mind to put on a black toga dress I've been saving for an occasion, and simple night make-up, complete with one of my pairs of 5-inch heels, and simply have a crazy night out. But something within me stopped myself from doing so. 

On hindsight, part of me feels sad that I've lost my impulsive self - that crazy streak within me that would lead me to do all that a couple of months ago. 

I am finally ready to admit that indeed, I've lost part of myself. 

The part(s) which used to define me so, if I may add. If I am not wrong to say so. Cause you see, now I am unsure. So unsure in fact, of what truly defines me. 

I spent most of my hours today (and many days before this) dwelling on that certain uncertainty, of endless questioning, and going back and forth in attempt to define who I truly am.

And then it hit me.

I have been raised up in a dignified manner, being bestowed with countless blessings and second chances. 

But only moments ago did I realise what stopped me from that impulsive act - that effortless chain of actions which I used to be so good at executing. 

I am not ready.
I am not ready to lose myself in a downward spiral (yet again), to let go of everything I've worked hard for. 

Of course, one night of partying away would not have made me lose everything, I understand that. Oh, but do I, really? 

I know now that I am simply trying, or clinging on to, the last shred of self-worth I still feel I must salvage. If it means sacrificing nights of partying impulsively like tonight, I believe I have nothing to lose. I welcome all the mockery in the world. Be my guest. For I can only hope I'll have the last laugh. 

Time will tell.