i feel like carrying the weight of the milky way on my shoulder. seems weightless, yet sounded fucking heavy.


i don't like to talk about my problems. you have yours. i have mine. i'll listen to yours and help you out. but i'm not expecting you to help me too. unless my problems are associated with carry marks. then you're free to help me until the last bit.


i feel sad. fucked up. torn. but it is not fair for others to see me being like this. i shall fake a smile and walk out.


i like being alone. at least i feel peace, knowing i don't have to fake a smile at trees.


i hate complaining. but that's what i do best. besides eating.


i can't sleep lately. it's been two days now that i slept after subuh. luckily i still have the interest to go to lectures. i'm thankful for the conscience You gave me. i hope i won't waste it.


i've ran out of ideas on how to deal with my problem. it is so difficult for me to bear with this. i don't know how he can cope with his problem, and still smile after what happened to him. such a strong-willed guy. i wanted to be like him. but he's sleeping now. should i sleep, too?


i have nothing left to give you.