you write stories because you want people to read your stories.
you read comments cause you want people to read your comments.
you write journals because... you want to remember what happened in your life.

journals are personal, they can be filled with scam and it's incredible to see how much in your life you were hurt.

i dangle floating in the middle of the air, wishing for dreams that never seem to come true.
one time it did, and it felt incredible because you can't believe it's finally happening.

i stare myself at my mirror and face the pride that's seems to never disappear. when it finally did, you reaccount on what happen and you panic cause you wonder whether what you picture was right after all.

i'm a coward that refuse to come out of the bloody shell cause when i do, it turns disastrous. can you really blame me world? can i blame someone else?

i'm taking a new turn.