I am reading a book. The words follow me around today, like a whimsical cloud above my head, a constant companion. The irony. Today, what I want is my own personal sun, to shine on me, for warmth; what I need is mist, to hide from prying eyes. Rainbows would only remind me of rain. And stars? Stars always seem to let me down.

Labels: confessions, everyday

ju vern
nineteen
malaysian

give ju vern a hug! =D







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