I didn't come to know who the hell I really am. It's still obscure to myself. I tried to reckon but I don't think that's enough. I don't know how to live. I heard about happiness and love but I'm naive when it comes to those kinds of things. They're an enigma to me. My life is an enigma to elucidate. 

But nevertheless, books are the only thing that makes my feel alive. And writing is the only way to repress everything that my mouth can't emit. 

And I'm inlove with classic and majestic and illustrious authors. They make me feel like I was born to read their minds and connect to them while immersing myself into books. Jane Austen, William Shakespeare, Alexandre Dumas, Oscar Wilde.. and everyone! I admire you so much.

And thanks to Wattpad for giving everyone a chance to read books for free cause we all know books are quite expensive. When I can't afford to buy a book, I'll just browse throughout the infinite shelves of moderns and classics and various genres of books! 


☕