It started off from Verona.

As lazy as i seem, i have left this page unwritten for more than a week, maybe more. Unlikely a soul will stumble upon this diary on purpose anyway. Its been quite a decade since i last believed in paper cranes and plastic flowers which never seemed to finish up where it started. Like a book that loses its bookmark, losing track. Youth Olympic Games has been ongoing, friends has been raving about it on twitter and facebook and the updates are so defined it feels like i'm there myself at the scene of events. Keep that coming, i like it.

Holidays are here and I've been procrastinating too much, Pushing the interview offered by Frolick and asking to start work in Yami a week later. Udders called, but somehow or rather, i decided not to go with that job. I don't know the reason, i just have this gut feeling somewhere that i shouldn't. Perhaps it was a mistake, but its fine.

I hate that this certain time of the month, when my outbreaks will start coming back and i get annoyed at every single thing possible and the thought of murdering grows stronger, creepy as it sounds. My hair because its like cotton candy and a touch makes me want to kill myself even more. I brought everything upon myself, and i hate myself.

Wow thats more than a teardrop of hatred in a breath.

Writing has always been my passion, my dream. Speaking was no lesser.

And it grew so much when i realized i was from Verona.

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