When are you most happy?

I am most happy when I am not questioned.
When I am given my own space.
I don’t want anyone to control me — because I am already controlling myself.
Every single day.
I carry my own pressure. I know my limits.
If I step out, I know when I have to return home.
No one needs to remind me.
No one needs to supervise my life.
I am already trying to break free from myself — from my own rules, my own expectations, my own inner discipline.
And when someone else starts controlling me too, it feels like I’m trapped under two sets of rules instead of one.
Please, leave me alone.
Let me deal with it in my own way.
Lately, I’ve realised something else too.
People are obsessed with perfection.
If something burns on the stove, so what?
If the motor is on and water overflows from the overhead tank, so what?
If a glass slips from the hand and breaks — so what?
It happens.
It’s not deliberate. It’s not carelessness. It’s just life being human.
Yes, water is precious, and yes, we should be careful — but accidents don’t deserve drama, lectures, or moral policing.
Not everything needs logic. Not everything needs correction.
And somewhere along the way, I’ve started hating perfection and rigid logic.
I want to make mistakes.
I want to do a few illogical things.
I want to let life spill, burn, break — and still be okay.
Because I am tired of being careful all the time.
Tired of being watched.
Tired of being corrected.
Let me be imperfect.
Let me be human.
Let me learn, fall, laugh, and figure things out on my own.
That, for me, is freedom.☘️

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