| Posted in , , , , , , | Posted on 12:00 AM

  My mind can't process things now. 
  Not that I ever had a Core i3 in my head or anything, but I'm even more slower(yes, two superlatives) now than I've ever known myself to be. 
  You know, it's sad when you come to realize that there is a lot of sadness in this world. Much greater sadness than that of being dumped by someone, much greater sadness than that of not having scored a satisfying percentage, much greater sadness than that of not having what you want. And these aren't merely saddening things; they're atrocities. And even if none of the atrocities ever happen to you, it remains far from not having an impact on you.
  What if the last time you get to see your father is when you're 16 years old? Or when you're 8 years old and you're running late for school, and your dad drops you off... what if that's the last time you ever get to say goodbye to him? So much for a last goodbye, huh? And how would you feel when you realize your life is not another novel with a 'fiction' tag on it?
  Ironically, one of my friends used that very word, atrocities, to describe my singing.
  What a revolting thought.

  This shall maintain by belief in the sanctity of the written word; never in my life would I have been able to speak these words. Ever.

  May their souls rest in peace. 


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