maybe no one will ever be able to understand how i feel now. i am such a loser. i failed at my performance, i felt really bad. really bad. why do i still have to deal with those fake faces? saying good job, nice job. why do i have to deal with the cameras whenever there is a concert? why can't i be the one to concentrate on the music? why do i have to deal with all those little details in every concert, every single move of chairs or stands? why? is it simply because i am a graduate assistant, then i will be able to perform well and at the same time be the stage manager? *uck off. i hate partying, i hate americans. i hate talking to strangers, i hate sleeping with strangers. from now on, the 4 weeks left. i won't talk a single word ever.
bitch, stop sending me emails. i almost crushed my notebook last nite when i got home.
all these shits is killing me softly. i thought i am able to get through it. in fact, i am not. cancer will always be able to survive in depression. all she needs is a crab shell to protect herself. please stop intervening my life.
關於我
- sadie
- A tomato couple: A couple of nothing, but share the same thing. They look like each other, but they may taste differently from one another. Some are sweet, some are sour, some are bitter......I am one of the tomato, waiting for another tomato, turning into a couple. Waiting can sometime be wasteful, wait, waste. Time is waiting, wasting time. Yes or no, come and go, I am just a tiny tomato, looking for a right one to be a couple. I dun want neither a miracle nor a hero. I only want my beloved tomato.
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