Sometimes.. I wish I were a bird.
Not just be any bird, but a red hawk.
Then, I could just spread my wings and fly.
Fly far, far away. Never to return..

If wishes were birds, beggars would soar

Losing interest in things that used to encompass my world.. is scary.

Michael Jackson rocks. Beat it.. Beat it!

Siblings do care.. I suppose.

Mimi: Where are you?

Me: On the way home.

Fly: You go to the park for what?

Teacher: Go play water-bombs.

Shubies: You have been coming home late these days.

Me: ...



















I will leave earlier tomorrow (^^,)

A new world. A new identity. A new objective. That.. was two years ago.

In this present day, there is a precarious balance between keeping afloat or sinking into the deep end. A certain death.

Slowly but surely - there is no doubt - they are discovering this dysfunctional uthopia. No matter how vainly they try to escape, they will lose and succumb to temptation.

Trying to keep this discovery from the world.
Afraid.. oh so very afraid of the condemnation.

Seeing them try to hide the uthopia for what it truly is.. We will laugh.

We will end this. Let us end this.
Our preys, will eventually fall into the trap. It is time to pull of their oxygen masks.

Blogger is being stupid. It refuses to let me upload pictures the easy way.




















Is too lazy to upload the traditional way