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Saturday, February 12, 2011

doushite?

Why is life so ironic? Maybe because it's just unfair to me.

Why do I need to study all these stuffs when I won't be needing them when I work? Maybe I just need to allocate my time doing productive things instead of idling it away.

Why do I feel empty every time? Maybe I'm just an incurable wallflower.

Why am I so mediocre? Maybe I just don't want to exert effort on not-so-important things.

Why can't I change? Maybe this is the best I can get.

Why am I so cynical? Maybe it's in the things I read.


Why am I still alive? Maybe someone still needs me.