Our life is like writing a novel. Something happens on every page. But this is not my journey tracing the words.. this is me re-tracing the little blotches left by me crow-quill pen dipped in ink.. cause after the pages have yellowed, and words have been forgotten, the blotches will still remain..
Sunday, February 27, 2011
I HATE ME.
I dont feel like blogging.
Is that bad?
I mean, Im not bored.
I dont feel like it.
Its too much to write.
Dont blame me if I have really small posts from now on.
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