Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Every night I rush to my bed with hopes that maybe I'll get a chance to see you in my dream.

I hate looking at myself and realizing that I don't like what I see. I hate looking back at things I did and wondering why was I like that. Everyday there's something wrong. Just one trivial thing that can make me unhappy for just a moment. It's like not even possible to have a day without a bad feeling.

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