It has been years, I keep thinking about being successful in life, in term of studies, carriers, and yea, relationships. I am sure that I am not as innocent as I was. Through communicating and lots of thinking, I have grown up, becoming an adult. This can't be wrong. I keep telling myself everything is gonna be alright and everything will just be fine. The reality is as real as you can touch. I hate myself being like a not realistic person.
I always make myself immerse into the novels. Through reading, I touch and experience the writers' hearts. I understand their overflowed emotions which ended up being written in words. The stories written make a handful of people cry over and over again. At least, not me, I don't have tears in my eyes, but in my heart.
I'm kind of sad about people being judgmental. Or I would say I'm one of them too. Being enthusiastic about fashion, clothing, hairstyle and all that, make me a worst person. Caring too much about those which will eventually fade in their respective colours, I feel like living in a sad and unreal life. Though it is touchable, it would never be felt, never be touched by hearts.
Meaningless, meaningless.
What's meaningful there? Probably by the time I find out, I will be smiling all days, or maybe forever.
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