Writing is the only outlet I have that is why I love what I am doing.
These are not just mere imaginations and illutions but emotions I can't let out because I know better than ruining other people's life with my anger and hatred, with my sorrow and sadness, with my grief and pain; with all the emotions that are lurking in all of inside me; with all these feelings that are taking away every reasons for me to breathe.
Somehow, I haven't really changed. This is still exactly the same petty me I used to be from a long time ago.
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