myst.

Jesus died for somebody's sins, but not mine.

Always a reoccuring thought in my mind: I wonder if I've been changed in the night? Let me think. Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is 'Who in the world am I?' Ah, that's the great puzzle!

- Alice in Wonderland

I wish I had the freedom to live life the way I want. But alas, I cannot due to my parents' wishes and the atmosphere in this suburban hell that I reside in. I feel as if I'm being suppressed from my creativity, forced from independent to submissive. Somedays, I get the strong urge to grab my favorite leather bag, my tweed suitcase - stuff all my favorite belongings with The Great Gatsby and satirical novels and hitch-hike to the smog-filled city of angels down south.

I've taken a loving to creative writing

Her face was so beautiful. Skin as white as my bedroom wall, her prominent cheekbones were well defined with her soft blush. Eyes appearing green then blue with a tint of grey in the ray of the sun. Eyebrows dark and nicely curved, defined her face well. Her lips coated with blood red lipstick and resting on the upper right hand corner above her top lip was her infamous beauty mark. Her luscious black brown hair was the best trait inherited from her mother. Soft curls it made, so soft to the touch. Her laugh, the giggling sound it made, sounded so musical. She was ever so grateful for her parents for giving her such genes. She was a beautiful one. Yes, she was a beautiful one, but if you saw her scars, you might have second thoughts. For her view of the society is as dark as the night that you’re afraid of.

I came across this quote unexpectedly and realized that these are my current thoughts put into better words: “I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And what do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in life. And I am horribly limited.”

- Sylvia Plath

I wish some people weren't so oblivious. Then maybe they will know what the fuck is going on around them.

I pretty much gave up relying on people. They're no help. Everyone is so selfish.

But once in awhile, there comes along a person who is so genuinely nice and I feel so grateful knowing that there are some people who can still bring hope.

What's on the outside is what's on the outside. What's on the inside is what's on the inside. They can be completely opposite, differences you've never thought of.