BLACK ISN'T A COLOR
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Última atualização qua, mai 2, 2018
"what are we ? who am i ? what am i doing with my life ?"
pagi ku dimulai dengan pertanyaan retorika yang memuakkan seperti biasanya. sometimes i feel like i am a hurricane, bigger than my own body, meaner than my demons, but sometimes i feel as fragile as wet papers, i got stuck in life, you can say that. but who is in control ? my demons ? or me ? actually none, He is in control of my life, but i lose on the fight, and lost in the middle of the way.
sick of all these people talking and these noise.
i could change my mood as fast as the January's waves, fast and strong and bold.
i'm sick of feeling used.
so i build this high wall, some people trying to break the wall down, you can't help but getting hurt by breaking these walls down, either you lose or me give up.
but he gave up on me, so i do the same. i'm the most selfish person on earth, i guess. i can;t take the blame, pointing fingers because i don't want to be the one who bear the damage alone. so i think it's the best for everyone, this time i don't mind to be the bad one, because you are a good man, who just want a good girl, and unfortunately you met me.
i want to paint my self black, because it's not a color, because nothing could defines me, i could be anything that i want. maybe i'll find someone who will paint me, and i'm sure someone will love you, but that person isn't me.
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