ive just posted the scariest self-realization i can imagine.

the fact of what i hate

yet cudnt resist but to love

or simply be self-indulge in both addictive scheme..

the idea to be left alone in a room full of people,

makes me highly impersonal to others,

in the case of demand, expectation and standardized values.

i am, as minty as the heat packs all over my back.

no wonder, i tried so hard to get out of me.

my definition of goodness are unseenable by sight.

i am a tripper, answering to no one.

me, a loner by default.

heat pack is my best friend.

pencil is my love/hate affair.

shutting down vessel part 3.