staring at the pages as they flip,
speed reading the words that were once my conveyor,
replaying unspoken thoughts and memories,
triggering undescribable emotional joys and hurts,
subconsciously growing up.


i hope insouciance is my inborn trait. if nonchalance and ignorance can prevent hurt, i will be the coldest person on earth.
i have got used to the feeling of being misunderstood. its a fuck feeling that makes your intestines contort and uncontrollably nauseous, trust me. All you wish you had done before was stay out of attention and hide.
its foolish to care, too much.