Melancholic morning caught my mind.
Those pity, pitiful posts I wrote when I was in senior highschool breezing and letting me be so anxious about it. At one point, I feel so undeniably sick of my gloomy thoughts over my middle teen ages. What the hell had brought me so down? At another point, I feel so damn it I was so mature on an earlier time than those teens. Damn it, candy flosses--my dayfruits were those scarying pointless yet common sense sharpening thoughts. I was feeling insecure.
I've been there forever.
Well, to be honest, I blame on my a-gland-disorder here, inside me. I don't know why, I probably couldn't be that ungrateful for having this malfunction part. But again, science explains. I've read the book about this gland. This mangy little gland sometimes drives me behaving sucks. Science proven. Damn it, you. What medication should I treated to my self? hormonal sucks.
Again, sorry, self.
It is okay, let yourself be insecure, dunderhead, pissed off, it is your rights.
Happiness would come along the way.
Anyway, I miss my Dad and Mommy.
This melancholic morning and the musics toward it has successfully hurting me. I want some other mutual dialogues about everything. Hufft, hug hug hug.
I miss playing piano too.