I always feel as if I were trapped in a transparent fish tank.
There is water, fish and my messy, cloud-like natural curls in this fish tank. Others can see me and I can also see the outside world, but between us, there is this invisible barrier. I tried hard to see my surroundings clearly. Sometimes, when I see others in groups, laughing and chatting merrily, I am filled with envy. But when they approached, I would involuntarily shrink back, as if the fish tank would be touched and broken. I'm afraid of that sudden intimacy, just as fish are afraid of a fish tank being shaken violently.
I often sat there, my hands clenched and my head down. It's not that I'm sad or shy; I just don't know how to fit in. The sounds outside, as if coming through water, were indistinct. I wanted to open my mouth, but in the water, I couldn't make a clear sound.
This fish tank is not entirely a restraint. It enables me to observe quietly, watching the sunlight pass through the water surface and cast shimmering spots on the ground. Watching the fish tail leisurely, it seems there's nothing to worry about. This fish tank is my own little world. Here, I can keep my own pace, just like a fish in water, neither too fast nor too slow.
Perhaps, everyone has such a fish tank in their heart. It not only separates us from the outside world but also reserves a unique space for us. I hope that one day, we can break this fish tank so that we can get along more freely with the outside world.
