In my twenty one years of existence, I still don't know where I wanna be... who I wanna be. I'm still lost. Writing is the only place where I find myself, contented and happy. I live in my imaginary world through words and letters where happily ever after do exists. It's not healthy for me though, for anyone. We expect fantasies happening in reality which is probably improbable, in some cases in the least. And now, idk. I don't actually make sense, do I? Feel ko lang maginarte habang ginagawa ko toh. Hahahaha! K.