Life has been treating me kind of harsh recently. Words have been just smashed to my face like a cake. I feel like I'm carrying a 10kg bag pack as if I'm going on a field camp. My heart is weary and hurt. I don't know what's going on now. I may seem aloof on what is going around me and show that it's okay to insult me and all. But truly, I'm hurting inside. It's tearing me apart inside out. It's killing me, my character, my everything. 

Today I went to the library again to read, like duh. Somehow I feel that by reading books, it helps me forget about my worries and hurts. It's like a new world where words are not to hurt you or insult you. But it's where words tell you a story.

Till then.