I feel like a black page in a book now. The books of other people, that is.

It's been a while. I've never thought I'd have to leave my crap here again.

Well whatever. Christmas was splendid this year, quite a different experience for me altogether.

I was especially happy that day. During the party there was rarely a down moment in me and to I was quite intrigued on how I survived my first(socializing) hang out trip after the party.I had tons of fun, that was definite.

On the contrary there was a void in me. The inability to really bond to someone, to really become friends. I try my very best not to let down the others, yet so I still feel isolated. I sit. Smile. Laugh. And yet within me, repression controls my every move. A suicidal dictatorship that desolates me for each of my every action.

and yet I smile.

I've never felt fully acquainted in these occasions. There was forever a reservation inside persistent to hinder me. It endorses me to be sensitive about everything the others do.Momentarily avoiding me.Not responding to my statements.They speak to your hated sister.They hate you too.Everyone does.

So, satisfy their hate.End it.

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