Week 2: How does Monica Cope

20's is a wakeful age, I daresay. All I want to do is to see the world but at times it can get so wicked in all meridians, and that pretty much scares the hell out of me. This is why I struggle. This is why I can't trust anyone. This is why I get hurt. But this is also why I love and why I am a hundredfold hopeful than when I was 15. This is why I strive for patience. For selflessness. For balance. For wisdom. For strength, effervescence, and most of all, resilience. I get so selfish sometimes that I want to change the world. Chaos is a beautiful word. Catharisis. Scintillate. Reverberation-- these are some of my favorite words, too. I realized, though, they all mean the same thing: explosion; the purging of; to be relieved of. Yet, I keep these words inside my safe pockets. They are my weapons, my incendiary bombs, my devices to start a fire; to wage a war inside me so finally I can have my own clean slate. It took me years to comprehend that to be selfless, first, you have to change yourself; not the world, not anyone, but yourself-- so that's the plan now. I remember a friend telling me. "Your surname speaks a lot about yourself-- Cope." To struggle. To deal with tribulations successfully and adequately. I guess sometimes we just need to be reminded-- "Hey, I was born resilient."