not knowing where to go or who to find, he ended up writing this journal.
he has the life of an ordinary person, yet the way of thinking of a melancholia.
he just doesn't know how to find that four-letter thing.
P. S. the navigator buttons are the colored bookmarks.
Monday, February 28, 2011
i'm trying.
there are always opportunities.
but every time it comes; every time we're alone, i'm choked.
it's like devil always shuts my mouth.
those words are always left unsaid.
i've never been this nervous..
oh God..
i don't know why.
i just feel weird when i'm with you, you know, just you and me.
ahh..
we've ever been through this.
but that is totally a different matter.
what's the big deal, i ask myself.
i don't know why.
actually, it's been a while since i last did this, head - straight.
i wonder if i was able to do that again. urgh..
and.. what we're supposed to do after that?
look at each other like idiots?
continue what we've left?
cry like a crybaby? (oh this one actually disgusts me)
i don't think i'm ready with those and other stupid possibilities.
there will be silence, yeah!
there will be silence i bet.
ahh.. i think i'm off the limit.
i can't think clearly enough right now.
my task is way too much to handle.
i just need some sleep for now.
P. S. i'm trying. i really am.
5:30 AM
