My life is oh so problematic.
Little-big troubles here and there.
My days always end up ruined thinking about these.
I don't want to cry, I really don't.
But I know that at one point of time, I will.
Just like I really want to believe you,
but some voice in my head is telling me not to.
Tears, rolling down my cheeks.
Bleh. At some point, I really feel that just dying would be the best thing.
But, no. It'll cause more troubles and worries.
I don't wanna leave everything bottled up.
I really don't want to. But it's hard to tell all these to someone,
without worrying whether they would find me insane or not.
I want to be happy, I truly want to.
But how?
I'm trying my best to put on a brave front.
Try, try, and try. But I always fail.
oh bleh. I think only my diary knows all these.
Everything that's going on now, just somehow kills me inside one way or another.
I'm not fine, I'm in pain, and it just gets harder everyday.
But no one's helping.
Perhaps I should just dwell in my own sadness.