It’s a dystopian world out there. Now is not the time to be bothered by beauty, or personal insecurities. There could be starving children in the streets, abused women, silenced innocent people, and entire races murdered while fighting for their lands.

Yet, within the four corners of my fairy-tale room, I am stuck in my own selfish world. Behind the creations of technology and the advancement of mankind… is me. Held safely in the quilt’s embrace—while perhaps many are freezing in the cold or crying silently in hunger—yet here I am, with the audacity to dwell on myself.

I shouldn’t be worrying about trivial things, about how I am slowly losing my light, or how I sit before the vanity mirror and no longer recognize the person staring back at me.

I see her whole, yet instead of stars, her reflection is full of constellations of tiny black holes—I feel nothing but horrified, nothing but insecure.

And even if fairy dust were to enter my bones and veins, my arteries, or even the corners of my heart and brain—would it ever find something worth seeing?

If I slowly peeled away all the layers of this dainty, demure, and seemingly strong character, I would be left with nothing but skeletons—dusty, muddy, rotten.

Behind this little device I hold in my hand to type away my feelings, all I can do is empathize with this world that is slowly dying. Do my words hold any power if my actions are no greater than those of an ant abandoned by its colony?

The point is, why does my insecurity matter when there are far greater problems out there?

In the back of my mind, I know this is all superficial—my insecurity and the way I see myself.

The way my eyes and mind perceive things has been socially constructed, but I feel truly rotten inside and out. So, there is no way out of this, right? No way out but to slowly wait for these dreadful days to become better again.

See? My problem is tinier than a speck of fairy dust. The grains that farmers gather each harvest season—grains that come through their sweat, courage, and effort—are far more important than whatever this is.

Then again, perhaps someday, the world will be a better place—a place where we no longer have to be consumed by insecurity and fear. But those things are just the tip of the iceberg.

I hope for a world without wars, without evil politicians, and without the greed of the one percent.