February, the month of love
It is the month of beautiful memories, of me getting close to you, of you making me feel home.
It is the month of rapid heartbeats, as you smile to me, as you walked with me.
It is the month of pure pain, down in my heart, down as you go away.
It is the of month of sacrifice, my sleep, my sanity, my dreams, my life.
And disappointment.

I am still thinking whether i should delicate a blog post for you.
Cause my blog is my inspiration
Not my love diary.

Blood
water

I think that the YOU in your blog is so fakes. I wonder what make you think that it is gd. You should just give up writing.

SO INCOHERENT.
SO DIFFIDENT.

I don't like (understatement)  how you use my play as a personal attack

Reading back on my blog, i realize that most of the posts are inspired by the GUYS. :)

YOU ARE SUCH A SELFISH JERK.
You deserve to have your heart broken.

Your face is like demons hell.
Your words are like broken glass.
Your heart is like marble cold.
Your hands are like burning hot. 

So why do i?
Why do I?
Why, why do I?
Why, why do i still love you?

To my partner out there,
I LOVE FLOWERS. 
I m super particular abt them.
AND YOU MUST GIVE ME. 

They must red roses without thorns, in a quirky bouquet
They must come in fourteen.
Most importantly, they must be given personally. With a card in it.

SEEMS REASONABLE. 

Maybe, perhaps, today i see you







after a long long time

When we are young, we receive hong bao
When we are older, we give hong bao.

So what is the point of hong bao?

Y DIDN"T YOU WATCH MY PERFORMANCE?

Day 1
Lust
Day 2
Gluttony
Day 3
Greed
Day 4
Pride
Day 5
Wrath
Day 6
Envy
Day 7
Sloth

A day. A Sin. I am a sinner.

Is gender preference generic?
Is age preference generic? 

Poems are so overrated.
Why is everyone writing them?
It makes things more complicated.
with nothing achieved at the end.

Marvel(Love)

I stepped into the comic store.
Everyday, at 6.09pm.
When the sun set.

Without fail, I will see him.
Gorgeous. Androgynous. Young.
There's something about him that give me the deja vu.

I picked a random comic and stand in front of him,
Acting.
Hoping that he will notice me.

"Spiderman. I like Spiderman.
Hi, my name is Peter.
Will you be my Mary Jane?"

I nodded as my heart is about to burst,
We held hands,
Walking out of the ______

How marvelous. Is this love?

You must be a shy kid
Never talked
Never loved?