Cfn 2015

Here's a scene of the event's BOD.

Qianrou - 4 years Cfn buddy. <3

I actually don't know what to start off with. To be honest, satisfaction isn't even included in it.


Screw the plot I'm not even in the mood to list out the stuff I went through in details, but it was a heck of awfully grey clouds I once threw in my letter of departure just to not let myself collide into that sight again. Imagine something I would die just so I wouldn't need to witness it happen in front of my empty eyes again. And it's heart-tearing to say this, but yes, it's happening again. The crap I used to cry in bed every single night as I didn't stand a chance to be in control of things, it's reliving history with a whole new level.

Now it sucks even more as my blog can't act as my smoke vent anymore as it's invaded with humans who shouldn't be knowing all the shit that's mashing up my life. Obvious enough, I'm not really in a role where I could explode whenever I feel like to or wherever I want to. My depression set to drain my thoughts in the morning hours only worsen things at the most incorrect time. It sawed me open in gory when the person whom stands on the fitting capability that offered real help became the main source of this repeating tornado. Admitting my current vulnerability, I cried nights & currently do so as I don't see a math equation that's able to fix this soul-fracturing drawback.

What's so dolorous that made words unfindable to express my unseeable tears? How can I even unleash the truth when the people around me also play a character of cause? How can I explain my dignity shattered into fine sand, mental persistence no longer hanging on the edgy cliff when there's not even one there with all ears in? Maybe I really am so odious I shouldn't be surprised seeing no shadows nearby to listen, maybe I'm just an idiot suffering with severe depression who can't face the mirror to obtain real help & instead lie dead on my desk every single day, smile so I could inspire people who look up to me, laugh like Mad Hatter so people think I'm okay. The strong cover I used to hold with feeble grips will soon be blustered off by the hurricane of realisation, it only matters on time.

To the man whom I once believed you could lend me an opaque helping grasp, I thought you knew what it feels like being in my shoes. I thought you knew how painful it is to witness out-of-control happenings slapping your face repeatedly with no mercy. Yet you're throwing such a scene straight into my eyes, like reflecting sunlight directly onto a Vampire's face. I don't what else to say, but thanks for breaking me till the point I am today. I probably seem as if I don't need support as I appear to have this lionheart-cover on me with my boycut & stained army tag, but you're furiously hitting the wrong keys this time. Overpolishing the sensitivity of another person for the reason she's not as strong as me only ships things closer to the iceberg of Titanic.

I'm sorry for being such a weakling, if that's what you crave to hear.