Everytime we get a little bit more older, there's a bundle of expectations that were tied to us- just like balloons and candles that keeps on increasing every year. We've all entered this world with similar chances of success, happiness &love. Our life is actually a cross relationship between nature &nurture. I am a normal, natural teenager with repressed anger flowing through her veins, a teenager who might have welcomed poison in her whenever sh's at th brink, a teenager who has not much competence but still wants much more. Breaking th dawn, sh cried out to the world as a vulnerable being- who had no idea how sh got here or how much trouble sh had been destined to but who was alr armed w a pomegranate coating that protects reality from seeping through her heart. I'd like to believe I was born on a rainy day, as a fighter &all th positive things between literal lines. But if I was born a fighter, everyone else was too, since luck doesn't exist do they? Luck couldnt exist cause if not, it only shows that higher power is playing a game of bias-ness; smth that shouldn't be cultivated here on Earth. But then again, is life a random game? Couldn't be could it? &Then again, fighters were nurtured, not nature-d with.

Pain becomes truly overbearing when it is especially not yours. These are th wild array of emotions you have to deal with when you stumble into a relapse of seeing someone you love, hurt. All these years you tried to imagine what real bad news sounded like, but when you actually hear bad news, it simply makes no sense; it's like being told th definition of a black hole by a physicist, or being told that th world is fair by a sinner. Its different if it is a bad news about you, cause you know you'll manage- you wont just turn a handgun towards your head or jump off a 20 storey building- cause you know you'll have that composure, that cunning thing of telling everyone else its gonna be alright so it wont hurt them much either. But you wouldn't know how somebody else works their life's tragedies cause they might be more corrupted &poisoned by this world of scum than you are. You only wish you could protect them instead-like a canopy of leaves blocking away sun from blinding eyes. You wish you could suck all th poison away from their tender brain, attack all those retarded fuckers who had attacked them &keep them at a safe hideout you built under childhood influences. Although feeling so desperate as I am, I can only whisper prayers; that their strength can sustain through difficult times, that they'll get over it &get back up on their fucking feet.

Labels: im rly not alw so emo ok., ps