Wasting My Young Years.

Writing has always been a passion.
I lack the good words, the big words.
I am what I write. Simple words, not too hard to comprehend.
I love life. And I love how perfectly imperfect things are.
Does it make me weak? I wonder. For finding all the broken pieces just, perfect. Just the way they are.
I think we're all like this.

I really enjoying crying. I think, there's something extremely beautiful when one allows the tears to just, run free, with no barriers. I'm very optimistic, don't get me wrong. Pessimism is not my thing. But being sad, that makes me happy sometimes. Makes me appreciate life more. I can never truly be sad. I guess, life's too beautiful to be wasted with regrets.

Wish I could sing on highest peak of the world. I think I can do that. I'd like that.
Wish I could build my own mini rocket and fly up in space. Then attempt a free fall up against gravity.
Wish I could start from the scratch.
Wish life would start from the scratch so that I'd treat it differently.
Wish I could stitch all that was torn. And repair.
Wish I could be a little bit stronger for others. Empathy is useless.

But why would I care? I'm in love with imperfection, I suppose.


Secret - Maroon 5.
Hey Now - London Grammar.
Wasting My Young Years - London Grammar.