I judge people too much.
I expect reciprocation in equal degrees.
I can't help talking.
Too much clutter and less practicality.
Too much words... but a dying honesty.
I-think-therefore-they-are.
Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.
No I love you's.
No I'm sorry's.
I always compromise for people.
I allow people to abuse me...
Yet I continue to hurt people not worthy of such pains.
No sense of home.
Too much interest in films and books.
Drunk with poetry.
Trash here, trash there.
Extremity of guilt-trips.
No room.
Optimism dead.
1 comment:
if i ever meet you sa gawas ba, i'd tell you to get over all of this... maybe you should take a break from all of this. poetry, media, or anything you've been having even though you're required for it. bend a few rules, break your set-up tradition.
maybe you'll find something good, if not better...
maux
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