maybe it's time to really learn not to have too high hopes; because nothing is a guarantee in this life. and when things don't go according to plan, and high hopes are dashed, they shatter into a thousand pieces and cut deep into my skin, resulting in deep bleeding wounds.
there is no delusion. there is no field with bright swaying poppies and bright clear skies. dark clouds are everywhere, they linger, they follow me wherever i go and pour down on me. the wounds continue to bleed and the blood continues to flow till it dries and taints every part of me.
there is no fcuking sense in anything.
icy fingers playing piano on my skin - 11:26 PM
grace chen
14 october 86
ntu
communication studies
long bus-rides
thinking of the what-ifs
the occasional alcohol
music