I really hate my birthday. It's the loneliest day on earth.

It's that horrible day again. As usual, I feel depressed on this day where I should be celebrating.

But it is on this day that I am able to evaluate how well people think of me. And I don't want to evaluate it cause it hurts to know.

How could you

I have nothing to say to you except this.

You up there in your silver tower,

lament about sorrows of a five year old child.

And as you bawl, this silver tower of yours grows taller,

feeding on your decorative tears.

Now, you can't even see me down on earth.

Somedays, I wish I was a normal girl.

Yet, there are days when I'm proud of being an unconventional girl.

The contradictions of being human.

The days when I reject my nature is painful. True, there's no point in rejecting who I am, but it's hard when people speak ill of you.

Makes me just want to hide away.

But hiding away creates the problem of loneliness. Loneliness and being alone, they're different. After saying all this, I guess I just want some validation for being who I am from those who mock.

The days when I don't care are blissful.

Its amazing how many drafts I have in my blogger account.

I guess it goes to show the conflicts in my head.

Should I or should I not?

With the "life threatening" exam looming over me, my mind is filled with unnecessary thoughts.

I wonder if I should send you a message but rejection stops my finger from pressing send.

So the message lies there.

Waiting..waiting...

Fearing the pain of rejection, you turn your back on what could have been and choose to discard, thinking that you have obtained.

In reality, you are still at the same spot.

But it's alright for your happy.

It doesn't matter how many people you stomp on as long as happiness is yours. Because it's your life.

For ignorance is the panacea of misery.

Like a cowardly mice, you hide in that mousehole of yours,

Keeping your heart locked in a tight little chest.

Dear mice, how does one breath like that?

The grains of sand sparked and ignited

As days pass, the heat grows, giving new life

With a fresh breath of oxygen, the sand turns to glass

Though blurry in this new beginning, the glass reaches a red hot intensity

Finally, a nearly crystalline glass is borne

How pretty it is.

Yet just like that it breaks so easily,

But the memories of its birth remains.

In those jagged pieces that cut so painfully;

A creully nostalgic reminder of the remainder.

Ignorance the ecstasy pill.