Waiting for your call, I'm sick, call I'm angry
Call I'm desperate for your voice
Listening to the song we used to sing
In the car, do you remember
Butterfly, Early Summer
It's playing on repeat, Just like when we would meet

I was born to tell you I love you
And I am torn to do what I have to, to make you mine
Stay with me tonight


I can't believe i'm blogging again. I wonder whether blogging is talking to yourself or talking to the world. I honestly hate this year. So much dreadful shit has happened. So much, that it forces you to grow up. How do you even find peace with yourself? No, i don't feel like i'm on holiday. I'm not studying for the mid years either. There's just something very wrong with me and i have no idea what's wrong. I'm just waking up each day and spending it aimlessly. What a good waste of life.

Actually, i do like being unproductive.

Now who the hell orders mcdonalds at three am. I can feel my ass growing already.