Confession to Broken Lady (12)


Is there any body going to listen to my story?

All about the girl who came to stay

—-

The way Aomame and Tango united at last, much as it bored me the slowly progressing pace, but it tells through the passing time, even in the oddest possible ways: what meant to be, meant to be. It shouldn’t be that fast, but he left me unintended remark, only to awe me, only to have me further rethought of every two cents, and only to make know myself better; of what is a matter of significant important and what is not worth a thought .” 

In between remembrance, she walked the her thought once passed in tandem with the soul she adored, she remembered every chunk of memories she once had in word detail; exchanged outlooks and casted joking. She had enough in remembrance to end it always with a light smile. 

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The Diary of a Late Bloomer (4)

I can still remember the day I first met you

The image is still so clear to me

——

Inflected, indeed?

What if it is indeed an inflected? So, it is the same person still after all? It is too early to assume so. I heard this song, 10 out 10 currently, the lyrics is pretty much powerful and sexy or playful to me, I love how women depicted as a figure of full authority; in this case in running the relationship they want. How it has to do with my current walking state of being, I suppose it goes the same with me, my journey is still long ahead, and I’m not by any means ready to be in a serious relationship at the moment; but I have you hold dear in my heart, of not being in relationship doesnt lessen my worth as a human being (I’m mentally in a relationship, though, no, mentally engaged). It might be inflected, it turns out to be the same person still, but it could be really him, only what I feel to him render slightly vague. Let’s see.

The Diary of a Late Bloomer (3)

When you’re tired of the feeling of being alone
You try hard to doze off. When you still can’t sleep. Because of the many, many thoughts

Don’t go dim what sparks my soul. I’m afraid I’ll lose myself and that is even more terrible than having my heart broken. To have myself lose the directions, to have my passion rendered me nowhere but to have it loosen up gradually. Boredom. The only enemy I have to counter is boredom, because to be in the constant pace, to be unwavered, you will come to the moment when you think you have it enough of having it walking the same pace, of walking it the same route, and you beg, then, for a little nuance, to be put in a distinct, to pour a little color in your upcoming pages. It still is along way to go. Way long to go. A lot of mysteries to be unfolded in the coming days. Bear with it, self! There will come the harvests time.

—-

Your IQ is two digits, test scores are also two digits

School rank is three digits, why in the world, why.