My view is blinded, fogged, blurred. Obscured by emotions, perceptions, expectations. I feel lost, confused, sometimes alone. Sitting here watching from the window,as people walk to and from places,that probably held little importance to them. With a book in hand, I try to escape reality. The tears. They just can't stop. All I can do is cry.Just cry.
❝ i am not very good at a lot of things;
i cannot paint you pictures because the beautiful things in my head cannot be translated
nor can i sing to you, as my voice has an uncanny habit of falling flat
nor can i play for you, as my fingers fumble when my thoughts cross over to how you look, watching me
but i can brush the knots out of your hair, and work the knots out of your back when your day has become too much to bear
i am not good at much,
Here is something that I like and love Likes: drinking infinite tea, snuggling up with good books, wearing pajamas, lazing off in bed, staying up night and waking up early
Hates: Being bothered but ignorant people who doesn't have a life.
I'll try my best to be nice with you guys, because I don't give up a fuck that easily and if you cross the line, i'll hunt you down. Am a pure Filipino in case you don't know. And my life is now full of disappointments, already broken up. So don't bother me.