I shan't cry tomorow, promise

Well, not tomorrow exactly. It's 3.38am in the morning, so I guess it's Friday, already. "Tower's leaving", as how he would say. It's sick and it's pathetic, but human are powerless. I'm powerless.

You shall be a nice memory, 18. Perhaps I'll see you again in a different light, I hope so.



I've been driving lately, late at night, going out and having fun. My mom's obviously not happy with it. Sometimes I wish I were a boy. Thanks for making life easy for a girl to live her life.

A huge part of me has been lost at sea, never again to be found, I assume. But I can still gather little bits of pieces that's been dropped somewhere along the journey. I hope I'll find myself again. I want to.

Wish me luck