Monday 27 April 2015

Infatuated in Frail

Already self-minded, dreaming to execute tasks single-handed all the way, barely possible to endure other people's alterable imperfections, yup that's me. Go on, point those fingers, I won't object. At least I'm clear of my own traits, and never thought about twisting them three hundred sixty, a little amend is alright though. It's just that it keep's fucking up my logic in social every single day.

When I was still a kid who volunteered & gave truthful opinions from pure heart, people loathe me. For my dictatorial characteristic, my straight judgements. But deep down inside, all I wanted was to help out, to make things better, to strive for victory. With the tiny flaws I see, my itchy fingers can't help but to snap things right without taking its smooth turn. I have my ways of picking out people's dents & marks, harsh I would say, but there wasn't a chance it never soaked into their ears. To be exact, my way of correction works, but it was often misconstrue. Tired of it happening developed my permanent silence & hidden blames.

The day two days ago displayed my death in persuasion. Despite it's a function I head, I lost my rock-like viewpoint. I gave in, loosely allowing people trampling over choices I should make. Not a surprise, my once stubborn correct-all-fault trait was indelibly numbed by the past happenings. My inner self was going wildfire, but I couldn't voice out at all. Probably because I couldn't manage its side effects I'll earn later on. Frail heart I own, damn I hate myself.

Wake me up before I do something immutable, please.


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