22nd June 2007
Friday

Scabs were forming inside him. Forming on his heart, sealing the wounds that had been afflicted by countless insensitive words. Scabs that hardened his heart. Soon, his world, the world that was full of love, care, innocence, and all other warm things that he could think of, would wither up and die, leaving an empty husk. All that from a scab hardened heart. Sometimes he wondered why he bothered with this existence. It is only one of the many lifetimes that he had went through, and will go through. As part of the cycle, the most he can do is to resign to fate and simply live till the end of his time.

I am confused, worried, frustrated, tired, upset, and apprehensive. About what? Only I know the answer. And I mean to keep it that way.

"Even if you can cheat the world, you cannot deceive your own self."
-Han Yong