it feels good to just curl up alone under running shower head, cry, shiver and think. The sensation of blood gushing to the face. Everything about it seems to remind me even harder how imperfect I am. I feel like giving up everything and running away again.

I often wished I’m more courageous, but sadly, I’m not. And I dont have many lofty aspirations. I just wanna do what I’ve always wnated to do since a kid. and I think I’ve not grown up.

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