~Audi alteram partem~

You know your part of the story. Now hear the other side.
Cos everyone just want to be heard
.

I just hate it when people say, "you don't know how I feel."
Of course I wouldn't know exactly how they feel, but to accuse that I never feel any pain in my life would be very judgmental. Oh I have my shares of pain...

Being called a whore by my own father? Been there.
Being suicidal and almost end my life? Done that.
Sent application in all college there is and accepted into none? Gosh, old story.
Chase out from my house by my brother? Passed that.
There was even times when I have no one to confide in, cos nobody cares. And even my best friends said I'm delusional and my mother called me attention-seeker.

But those are long forgotten stories, I don't even remember it as a memory but merely as stories I've read somewhere. And as Nietzsche long ago had said: What doesn't kill you make you stronger.
So somehow I survive.
There will always be times when you'll find yourself standing in the middle of crossroad; where you have to choose: to the left to suicide, or to the right to a better stronger person.
In my case, I'm too coward to choose left. So I only left with one option no matter I like it or not.
There will always be prices to pay, of course. I pay it with my ability to feel; so I can no longer feel a thing. Or in other words, I'm heartless.


You'd think I said all that because I'm living on bed of roses this moment. But you're so wrong. I'm living hell right now, surrounded by devils themselves. However, to misquote Winston Churchill: "If you going through hell, keep going...till you reach the way out."
That's what I'm doing now, hopefully I'll make it out alive.
Oh, whatever. I'm so done whining about myself.

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