Ang hirap makulong sa buhay na ako lang ang nagmamahal. Sana ako rin, mahalin n'ya.

Kill me, strangle me, bash me from behind, hammer my face, pound my head, stab me repeatedly in the chest, lacerate my wrists...

I don't feel well: sick of speech class, sick of tomfooleries, sick of everything, simply sick.

not everything in Plurk is plurkable.

going to take a warm bath now.

And why do I ask a lot of questions today? Have I already gone nuts, or am I nearly there?

Does everyone seem idle and tired today, or this is just weird, mistaken feeling?

When everything starts failing one by one, remember that time is made boundless to improve them.

Unless he speaks up for himself, shying away insinuates cowardice, or is he just intelligent enough to think fighting worsens everything?

Why could I not cut her off my mind? When could I get off telling her what I feel?