we can’t possibly be related.


I’m in no mood for anything. That is, except the radio, music and my books. My mood is bad enough, maybe even throughout this whole year. I’d wanna apologize to everyone, but I figured I must at least calm my somewhat insane moods.

I might be known to have mood swings, but I, myself, and maybe only myself, know that they are not actually mood swings. And this, along with many other darkest secrets, would stay put deep in my heart, without any intention of surfacing. These darkest secrets will be who I am, and the constant reminder of standing up straight for myself, blocking out whatever is nonsense, and embracing what I am up to fight.

I don’t get hurt easily, and that would be because I’m wired to filter them out. I am not hurt by your words, but your actions. That you said it out loud. This, is mostly why, I think about why are we even related. You would think it has no harm in the sentence itself. But it’s accusing, it’s discriminating. And it’s hurting. The victim might have not even know, but it is just as hurtful.

Now then, everything rang to me like a reminder, to not ever grow up just to be like you. And you. And you. And you. And you…

I will have my own way.

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