Everytime I get homesick or lovesick, I tend to have no appetite, which escalates concern from others (which is sweet, yeah alright) but they make me want to stuff tissues down their throat. You know, I love t talk, but I hate questions &noisy conversations. Questions meant 2 things; ppl are interested to know you better or they are out of topics t touch on. Either way, I have always hated instant undertaking. I'd like everything to be more practical than theoretical. Yeah despite leaving destiny in th hands of very capable chemistry, I personally prefer people to slowly decode me, cracking &fixing my shell &get graved into similar emotionally linking situations rather than me having t tell them who I am. It can't be define by a few weeks, months, even years of exchanging words anyway, right? Maybe you get a few pieces of th puzzle right &some can round up to different perspectives of how they oversee you but I never ever intended t hurt anyone in th process, (maybe one or two here &there, depending on how much their memories have th potential of scarring me randomly, putting me into vague plans of resentment, but it never really last anyway).

I write most of my time so there's always an element of what I feel at th moment, but feelings never stayed too permanent. I just want to remember. I am an overly excessive sentimentalist in th making so thats what I do. Knowing I tend t notice little things, discovering ppl are so afraid &cornered when they're around me are just absurd &ridiculous. Tsk. Self-esteem issues I suppose, which reminds me that Azeemah directed us t take a survey that touches on th most real &apprehensive situations among our society nowadays. Despite th fact that I had a culture shock when I was transiting from secondary sch, I am th kind of girl who'd want kids to take their time growing up, I am th kind who walks home from school wondering why some people are so mean &racist, not why kids should be mature faster. Soon enough, th age range of teenagers would be from 10-17? Great.

Anws, hailing &only recently figuring out what I really wanted t do; I think I'm getting a little bit too obsessive. I wrote a letter to Tina on my progression as a depressionist (yeah, no such word btw) as I missed alot of initially targeted chances of little, baby steps t success. I always fall t Earth back down with a thud whenever I try t find heaven. But some told me too I can find a little piece of it, here, in my hometown, here, with humans. I said I knew, I believe them. Then they told me only lucky ones will find this true meaning of bliss. That, I didn't believe them. I said; only lucky ones get a taste of hell &sail through them, then proceed to appreciate th wonders of life &start t think its heavenly enough. I want t be that person, I guess. Right.