I FOUND IT REALLY BIZARRE AND STRANGE ABOUT THIS YOUNG WIFE MOTHER OF 3 CHILDREN. WHY SHE LOVE TO HATE WHILE HER RELIGION PREACH AND THOUGHT HER TO BE FORGIVE AND FORGIVEN.
LET FOCUS ON THE ISSUES SURROUNDING HER
1. IS IT BECAUSE SHE IS INSECURE AND A SPOILED BREED
2. IS IT BECAUSE SHE WANTED ATTENTION
3. IS IT BECAUSE HER ATTITUDE IT IS AT SUCH
4. IS IT BECAUSE HER UP BRINGING
5. IS IT BECAUSE HER SURROUNDING MAKE HER BECOME AS WHAT SHE IS NOW
6. IS IT BECAUSE SHE TRYING TO COVER HER HIDDEN WEAKNESS
7. IS IT BECAUSE SHE WITH A BLACK HATED HEART
8. IS IT BECAUSE SHE THINK SHE SUPER GREAT
9. IS IT BECAUSE OF MISUNDERSTANDINGS
I began to think, “how can a person having to disliked someone so much remain in a place without others really dare to challenge her?” Well, I think the reason she remains is that she reflects a perfectly spoiled middle class identity who she think she is always right.
Why don’t she approach and confront the person that she dislike or have discussion about it rather than bitching about it through social network or through other people, hey woman… since you always think you always right, why not be brave and confront others face to face
In her outburst she claimed that she was honest in admitting her mistake but after much investigating it just a false claim which she created in her own make believe fantasy. I guess she is an EMPTY VASSAL after all, because she only dares to bitch about it through other mean instead of sicking the truth by confronting that individual. What I know she has being forgiven by me and the individual she hate. May god bless her soul.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Love & Life
LOVE & LIFEThis story tells us something about LOVE & LIFE. My husband is S/W Engineer by profession, I love him for his steady nature and I love the warm feeling when I lean against his broad shoulders. Two years of courtship and now, five years into marriage, I would have to admit, that I am getting tired of it. The reasons of me loving him before, has now transformed into the cause of all my restlessness.I am a sentimental woman and extremely sensitive when it comes to a relationship and my feelings. I yearn for the romantic moments, like a little girl yearning for candy. My husband is my complete opposite; his lack of sensitivity, and the inability of bringing romantic moments into our marriage has disheartened me about LOVE. One day, I finally decided to tell him my decision, that I wanted a divorce. "Why?" he asked, shocked. "I am tired. There are no reasons for everything in the world!" I answered. He kept silent the whole night, seemingly in deep thought. My feeling of disappointment only increased. Here was a man who was not able to even express his predicament, so what else could I expect from him? And finally he asked me: "What can I do to change your mind?" Somebody said it right... It's hard to change a person's personality, and I guess, I have started losing faith in him. Looking deep into his eyes I slowly answered: "Here is the question. If you can answer and convince my heart, I will change my mind. Let's say, I want a flower located on the face of a mountain cliff, and we both are sure that picking the flower will cause your death. Will you do it for me?" He said: "I will give you your answer tomorrow.... " My hopes just sank by listening to his response. I woke up the next morning to find him gone, and saw a piece of paper with his scratchy handwriting underneath a milk glass, on the dining table near the front door, that goes.... My dear, "I would not pick that flower for you, but....please allow me to explain the reasons further..... This first line was already breaking my heart. I continued reading. "When you use the computer you always mess up the Software programs, and you cry in front of the screen. I have to save my fingers so that I can help to restore the programs. You always leave the house keys behind, thus I have to save my legs to rush home to open the door for you. You love traveling but always lose your way in a new city. I have to save my eyes to show you the way. You always have the cramps whenever your "good friend" approaches every month. I have to save my palms so that I can calm the cramps in your tummy. You like to stay indoors, and I worry that you will be infected by infantile autism. I have to save my mouth to tell you jokes and stories to cure your boredom. You always stare at the computer, and that will do nothing good for your eyes. I have to save my eyes so that when we grow old, I can help to clip your nails and help to remove those annoying white hairs. So I can also hold your hand while strolling down the beach, as you enjoy the sunshine and the beautiful sand...and tell you the colour of flowers, just like the colour of the glow on your young face... Thus, my dear, unless I am sure that there is someone who loves you more than I do... I could not pick that flower yet, and die ... " My tears fell on the letter, and blurred the ink of his handwriting. .. and as I continue on reading... "Now, that you have finished reading my answer, and if you are satisfied, please open the front door for I am standing outside bringing your favorite bread and fresh milk... I rushed to pull open the door, and saw his anxious face, clutching tightly with his hands, the milk bottle and loaf of bread....Now I am very sure that no one will ever love me as much as he does, and I have decided to leave the flower alone... That's LIFE, and LOVE. When one is surrounded by love, the feeling of excitement fades away, and one tends to ignore the true love that lies in between the peace and dullness. Love shows up in all forms; even in very small and cheeky forms. It has never been a model. It could be the dullest and most boring form ... Flowers, and romantic moments are only used and appear on the surface of the relationship.. Under all this, the pillar of true love stands... AND THAT'S LIFE
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
My dying soul
Me is me but lately me is not me. I have a gorgeous girlfriend and few good friends but out of late I feel I’m very depressed. I don’t want to drink and get drunk because this is only a palliative solution and I have also promised my sweetheart that I’m going to slow down and eventually stop drinking.
Sometimes I’m a fool but it is because I’m disappointed. I want to leave this place. If I don’t have anyone that I want to be with, I have already made my move and relocated myself to somewhere else.
My sweetheart few days ago commented that I talk less then before. I don’t think I did but probably I do. May be because of my frustration, my subconscious mind have reacted toward it and make me become less talkative toward my sweetheart. (Sweetheart sorry I don’t mean too)
To the others, I just don’t know what to say because the things I wanted to say already been said. I don’t want to sound like a broken record if I keep on repeating the same thing over and over again.
Of late after that silly Michal Ong incident by this stupid OWH AM and I have been blame for it make me one thing for sure started hate talking to people (except my sweetheart) and to stranger because to me they are bothering me with their superficial things and the way they think.
I hope I able quickly get away to somewhere with my sweetheart
I hope in return someone else able to do the talking and for me to do the listening
I hope my heart beep slower and my soul be in peace
Appended below the memoir of my dying soul by Staindspikez
The warm sensation rushed from my body as my cover was ripped away from my skin. The flourish of the music pouring from the radio combined with the chants fleeing from my mother’s mouth swelled in my ears, sending that aggravating signal to the brain that it was time to wake up. My body managed to turn despite the complete lack of motion. I reached for the place that my cover had resided, finding nothing but my left leg. Screams of my name swept through my head, consuming the islands of sleep with tides of light that erupted from the outside world.
As I rejoined the world of the living, I found myself in landscape of ruins in my own room and my own house, and I did not c are. I looked up to my clock lingering above my head. The glowing, red 7:20 stared at me, giving me that look of disappointment that I had become so accustomed to. Obscenities fled from my mouth as I unwrapped myself from my covers, tripping over my table that held a plate of now-cold eggs and room temperature milk that my mom had apparently gotten up early to prepare for me. I tried to avoid knocking over the glass, but it had already happened. The cup lay on its side, as a waterfall of white fluid rushed over the edge of the table. I neglected the mess, intending to clean it up later.
I discovered myself drowning in the same dreary routine as I stumbled to my closet, stripping a shirt from its hanger. Running to the bathroom, I swept up a pair of pants that I had worn the previous day. I dressed myself, gave my teeth a quick swipe with my toothbrush, and ran some water through my hair, drenching my shirt with the excess. I flipped the light switch and ran up the stairs two at a time, tripping over the shoestrings that dangled beneath my pants.
I conquered the stairs and ran to the kitchen, specifically the refrigerator. I went for the door, noticing a piece of paper attached with the incessantly annoying smiley face magnet.
Hope you enjoyed your breakfast. I’ll see you when you get home from school. Have a good day. I love you, Mom.
I continued to open the door and grabbed the milk jug. I went to the cabinet, pulled a cup from the shelf, and poured the milk into the cup. I went to the second flight of stairs and yelled for my brother.
“I was suppose to be at school five minutes ago,” my brother bellowed back to me as he came down the stairs.
I ignored his comments as I left the house, locking the door behind me.
School was the same. People were eager to get the closest parking spots. I pulled around, finally seeing a place that everyone had overlooked. I sped into the space, barely missing the opening door of the car next to me.
My brother evacuated the car, not thanking me for the ride. I remained in the car, watching the crystalline drops of rain that had begun to fall on my window. I love the rain; at least I had one thing good in my life today. Yet, sometimes I wondered if what we perceive as rain is really God’s crying at the sight of what His Creation had become.
I eventually left the car and headed to my group of friends. I stood and listened to their conversations. It was the usual discussing of which girls are “hot.” I hate these types of conversations. I can’t believe that they would push a girl down to the level of being “hot.” I choose to issue the word of beautiful to describe them. Beautiful is such a more delicate, yet powerful word to describe a girl.
I watched the flocks of people maneuver their way across the sidewalk. There was the girl. I had no idea who she was. I had no knowledge about her. I didn’t even know her name. I saw her walking to class every morning, yet I could not conjure up the strength to bring myself to talk to her. In the midst of a world where everyone’s face burns, hers was the one that glows. My friends constantly encouraged me to talk to her, but I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t sure why though. There was no one else that I was interested in. After all, my girlfriend had broken up with me over three months ago. It wasn’t like I still wanted to be with her. It wasn’t like I couldn’t get over her. It wasn’t even that I missed her, but maybe it was that I missed my heart. It was the one thing I had given her that I should’ve taken back. For some reason, I didn’t. Tomorrow, tomorrow I would talk to the girl. Tomorrow I would find out who she was.
My friends interrupted my thoughts by questioning my silence. I excused myself as being sick. Being sick was always my excuse. It was better than trying to explain that I sometimes enjoyed silence. People seem to have forgotten that solitude, just as the rain, can still be a good thing.
The bell rang. I began walking to class, passing my fellow sheep on my way. Yet, there weren’t my fellow sheep, there was something that set me apart from them.
She walked toward me. It was me ex-girlfriend. Every time I saw her, our final conversation replayed over and over. I still remember her words of “you’ll be an even bigger loser” and “I guess you don’t have any self esteem.” That had always been my biggest fear, being a loser. I had heard other people say it behind my back, but I never took any thought to it because I didn’t care about those people. When I heard it from her, I believed it. I was a loser. As she passed me, I just smiled my usual distant smile.
First hour, time to do some work. I hated that class, but it wasn’t the work. It was the people. I hadn’t talked to anyone in that class since school had started. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to them, but it was the fact that I was the type of person that they laughed and sneered at.
I don’t understand what some people think. What was I suppose to think when I was confronted with the question “why are you depressed today?” Do people honestly think that I was depressed all of the time. If it wasn’t that, it was the fact that people were amazed when I smiled or laughed. It was as if they expected me to bear no image of happiness, to live my life in depression, and if I wasn’t depressed, then I must be lying and faking my happiness. Well, stop it! I hate it! If you don’t care to know me, then don’t care to mock and torment me! You don’t know what you’ve done to me! You’re killing me! I’m dying because of you, and you don’t care! You’re destroying me! My heart is crumbling! Everyone, go away!
I guess it’s too late now.
Second hour arrived the same time as usual. Today I wasn’t going to face it. I traded my trip to class with a trip to the nurse’s office. A temperature check and a few fake coughs were enough to send me home. Once again, my “sickness” excused me.
I returned home. No one else was there. I went to my room, leaving my lights off. I climbed into my bed and slept. In fact, my body is still lying there. Why can I see myself? Someone’s knocking on my door. Wake up and answer the door! Why can’t I move?
Here comes my mom. She’s trying to clean up my mess that I made this morning. Mom, I’ll clean it up later. You don’t have to do it. Why can’t she hear me? Mom!
She’s pushing my sides to wake me up. Come on, get up! I want up! Mom stop pushing me. She’s putting her hand on my chest. I’m not moving! What is she doing? Mom, who are you calling?
Sirens. Why do I hear sirens? People. Who are all of these people? Where. Where am I going? Wires. Why are all of these wires on me? Monitors. What are all of these monitors watching? Crying. Why are my parents crying? Dead. I’m dead.
Mom? Dad? What are you looking for? My stuff is all messed up. There’s my journal. Those are my thoughts. Mom, please don’t read those.
If the world was over today If the Lord came my way What would I leave behind What could I give to remind I don’t want to leave without them knowing I can’t leave without my showing If I had to go today Here are the things I would have to say:
Please tell my parents I love them And I’m thankful for all they’ve gave I’m sorry for the times of trouble I’m sorry for the things I took away.
Please tell my brother he’s not that bad No matter what we say or do Like my parents I love him too Tell him to remember all I’ve taught From the lessons of life to not getting caught
Please tell my friends that they’re the best No matter what happens I would never give them up I’ve been there for them and they’ve been there for me I hope they know how important their influence will be
Lastly I save the one whom I love Please tell her she has me forever And I’ll give her all she wants Tell her I’m sorry for the times I could’ve been better The times of happiness and the times of pain Forget them never No matter what happens I shall love you forever
The minister finished reading, and I was closed up forever. The ones that had attended watched. I’m amazed. The number of people present was greater than I could’ve ever hoped for. Family, friends, and everyone that had ever cared about me were there, even them, both of them - the one I had lost and the one for whom my chance of tomorrow would never come.
“It’s time to go,” I was told as God placed His hand upon my heart.
As the people left my service, it began to rain those beautiful crystalline drops. They weren’t the tears of God’s sadness, but the tears of my happiness.
Sometimes I’m a fool but it is because I’m disappointed. I want to leave this place. If I don’t have anyone that I want to be with, I have already made my move and relocated myself to somewhere else.
My sweetheart few days ago commented that I talk less then before. I don’t think I did but probably I do. May be because of my frustration, my subconscious mind have reacted toward it and make me become less talkative toward my sweetheart. (Sweetheart sorry I don’t mean too)
To the others, I just don’t know what to say because the things I wanted to say already been said. I don’t want to sound like a broken record if I keep on repeating the same thing over and over again.
Of late after that silly Michal Ong incident by this stupid OWH AM and I have been blame for it make me one thing for sure started hate talking to people (except my sweetheart) and to stranger because to me they are bothering me with their superficial things and the way they think.
I hope I able quickly get away to somewhere with my sweetheart
I hope in return someone else able to do the talking and for me to do the listening
I hope my heart beep slower and my soul be in peace
Appended below the memoir of my dying soul by Staindspikez
The warm sensation rushed from my body as my cover was ripped away from my skin. The flourish of the music pouring from the radio combined with the chants fleeing from my mother’s mouth swelled in my ears, sending that aggravating signal to the brain that it was time to wake up. My body managed to turn despite the complete lack of motion. I reached for the place that my cover had resided, finding nothing but my left leg. Screams of my name swept through my head, consuming the islands of sleep with tides of light that erupted from the outside world.
As I rejoined the world of the living, I found myself in landscape of ruins in my own room and my own house, and I did not c are. I looked up to my clock lingering above my head. The glowing, red 7:20 stared at me, giving me that look of disappointment that I had become so accustomed to. Obscenities fled from my mouth as I unwrapped myself from my covers, tripping over my table that held a plate of now-cold eggs and room temperature milk that my mom had apparently gotten up early to prepare for me. I tried to avoid knocking over the glass, but it had already happened. The cup lay on its side, as a waterfall of white fluid rushed over the edge of the table. I neglected the mess, intending to clean it up later.
I discovered myself drowning in the same dreary routine as I stumbled to my closet, stripping a shirt from its hanger. Running to the bathroom, I swept up a pair of pants that I had worn the previous day. I dressed myself, gave my teeth a quick swipe with my toothbrush, and ran some water through my hair, drenching my shirt with the excess. I flipped the light switch and ran up the stairs two at a time, tripping over the shoestrings that dangled beneath my pants.
I conquered the stairs and ran to the kitchen, specifically the refrigerator. I went for the door, noticing a piece of paper attached with the incessantly annoying smiley face magnet.
Hope you enjoyed your breakfast. I’ll see you when you get home from school. Have a good day. I love you, Mom.
I continued to open the door and grabbed the milk jug. I went to the cabinet, pulled a cup from the shelf, and poured the milk into the cup. I went to the second flight of stairs and yelled for my brother.
“I was suppose to be at school five minutes ago,” my brother bellowed back to me as he came down the stairs.
I ignored his comments as I left the house, locking the door behind me.
School was the same. People were eager to get the closest parking spots. I pulled around, finally seeing a place that everyone had overlooked. I sped into the space, barely missing the opening door of the car next to me.
My brother evacuated the car, not thanking me for the ride. I remained in the car, watching the crystalline drops of rain that had begun to fall on my window. I love the rain; at least I had one thing good in my life today. Yet, sometimes I wondered if what we perceive as rain is really God’s crying at the sight of what His Creation had become.
I eventually left the car and headed to my group of friends. I stood and listened to their conversations. It was the usual discussing of which girls are “hot.” I hate these types of conversations. I can’t believe that they would push a girl down to the level of being “hot.” I choose to issue the word of beautiful to describe them. Beautiful is such a more delicate, yet powerful word to describe a girl.
I watched the flocks of people maneuver their way across the sidewalk. There was the girl. I had no idea who she was. I had no knowledge about her. I didn’t even know her name. I saw her walking to class every morning, yet I could not conjure up the strength to bring myself to talk to her. In the midst of a world where everyone’s face burns, hers was the one that glows. My friends constantly encouraged me to talk to her, but I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t sure why though. There was no one else that I was interested in. After all, my girlfriend had broken up with me over three months ago. It wasn’t like I still wanted to be with her. It wasn’t like I couldn’t get over her. It wasn’t even that I missed her, but maybe it was that I missed my heart. It was the one thing I had given her that I should’ve taken back. For some reason, I didn’t. Tomorrow, tomorrow I would talk to the girl. Tomorrow I would find out who she was.
My friends interrupted my thoughts by questioning my silence. I excused myself as being sick. Being sick was always my excuse. It was better than trying to explain that I sometimes enjoyed silence. People seem to have forgotten that solitude, just as the rain, can still be a good thing.
The bell rang. I began walking to class, passing my fellow sheep on my way. Yet, there weren’t my fellow sheep, there was something that set me apart from them.
She walked toward me. It was me ex-girlfriend. Every time I saw her, our final conversation replayed over and over. I still remember her words of “you’ll be an even bigger loser” and “I guess you don’t have any self esteem.” That had always been my biggest fear, being a loser. I had heard other people say it behind my back, but I never took any thought to it because I didn’t care about those people. When I heard it from her, I believed it. I was a loser. As she passed me, I just smiled my usual distant smile.
First hour, time to do some work. I hated that class, but it wasn’t the work. It was the people. I hadn’t talked to anyone in that class since school had started. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to them, but it was the fact that I was the type of person that they laughed and sneered at.
I don’t understand what some people think. What was I suppose to think when I was confronted with the question “why are you depressed today?” Do people honestly think that I was depressed all of the time. If it wasn’t that, it was the fact that people were amazed when I smiled or laughed. It was as if they expected me to bear no image of happiness, to live my life in depression, and if I wasn’t depressed, then I must be lying and faking my happiness. Well, stop it! I hate it! If you don’t care to know me, then don’t care to mock and torment me! You don’t know what you’ve done to me! You’re killing me! I’m dying because of you, and you don’t care! You’re destroying me! My heart is crumbling! Everyone, go away!
I guess it’s too late now.
Second hour arrived the same time as usual. Today I wasn’t going to face it. I traded my trip to class with a trip to the nurse’s office. A temperature check and a few fake coughs were enough to send me home. Once again, my “sickness” excused me.
I returned home. No one else was there. I went to my room, leaving my lights off. I climbed into my bed and slept. In fact, my body is still lying there. Why can I see myself? Someone’s knocking on my door. Wake up and answer the door! Why can’t I move?
Here comes my mom. She’s trying to clean up my mess that I made this morning. Mom, I’ll clean it up later. You don’t have to do it. Why can’t she hear me? Mom!
She’s pushing my sides to wake me up. Come on, get up! I want up! Mom stop pushing me. She’s putting her hand on my chest. I’m not moving! What is she doing? Mom, who are you calling?
Sirens. Why do I hear sirens? People. Who are all of these people? Where. Where am I going? Wires. Why are all of these wires on me? Monitors. What are all of these monitors watching? Crying. Why are my parents crying? Dead. I’m dead.
Mom? Dad? What are you looking for? My stuff is all messed up. There’s my journal. Those are my thoughts. Mom, please don’t read those.
If the world was over today If the Lord came my way What would I leave behind What could I give to remind I don’t want to leave without them knowing I can’t leave without my showing If I had to go today Here are the things I would have to say:
Please tell my parents I love them And I’m thankful for all they’ve gave I’m sorry for the times of trouble I’m sorry for the things I took away.
Please tell my brother he’s not that bad No matter what we say or do Like my parents I love him too Tell him to remember all I’ve taught From the lessons of life to not getting caught
Please tell my friends that they’re the best No matter what happens I would never give them up I’ve been there for them and they’ve been there for me I hope they know how important their influence will be
Lastly I save the one whom I love Please tell her she has me forever And I’ll give her all she wants Tell her I’m sorry for the times I could’ve been better The times of happiness and the times of pain Forget them never No matter what happens I shall love you forever
The minister finished reading, and I was closed up forever. The ones that had attended watched. I’m amazed. The number of people present was greater than I could’ve ever hoped for. Family, friends, and everyone that had ever cared about me were there, even them, both of them - the one I had lost and the one for whom my chance of tomorrow would never come.
“It’s time to go,” I was told as God placed His hand upon my heart.
As the people left my service, it began to rain those beautiful crystalline drops. They weren’t the tears of God’s sadness, but the tears of my happiness.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Black Cat Crosses My Path
I just wondered and still wondering
Off late this hairy creature in black been crossing my path quite frequently
Is it a sign?
Or I just to remind me to be extra careful on my daily routine
My sweetheart told me few days ago that she bring bad luck to me
Obviously it is not true because she had bring the best in my and I thanks her for that
Back to the black cat
It just a superstitious and I believe it is act of god for me to be careful
God tell you thing in a lot of ways.
I guess since now I own a car and driving my sweet cup cake around, he is telling me to be cautious and not to drive to fast or recklessly.
Again also I think God wanted to remind me to think of him which off late I don't really do.
Also I think God wanted me look in the behaviour of this sneaky, clever, agile hunters with a strong streak of Independence and he probably wanted me to be prepared to be as the Cat.
Ohhh Well
Thing happen for a reason
I guess I got to learn from it rather then been frustrated over it.
Whatever happen I still need to go on with my life
Off late this hairy creature in black been crossing my path quite frequently
Is it a sign?
Or I just to remind me to be extra careful on my daily routine
My sweetheart told me few days ago that she bring bad luck to me
Obviously it is not true because she had bring the best in my and I thanks her for that
Back to the black cat
It just a superstitious and I believe it is act of god for me to be careful
God tell you thing in a lot of ways.
I guess since now I own a car and driving my sweet cup cake around, he is telling me to be cautious and not to drive to fast or recklessly.
Again also I think God wanted to remind me to think of him which off late I don't really do.
Also I think God wanted me look in the behaviour of this sneaky, clever, agile hunters with a strong streak of Independence and he probably wanted me to be prepared to be as the Cat.
Ohhh Well
Thing happen for a reason
I guess I got to learn from it rather then been frustrated over it.
Whatever happen I still need to go on with my life
My dream vs memory
When I wake up from having a dream it seems hazy as the haze in KL yesterday, not nearly as real as I had thought it was at the time I was actually dreaming it.
Now I start to think back to any moment in the past, my memory of it, and its comparison to a memory of a dream.
They are identical in that we have an inability to remember it as real as it actually was.
In biology we studied that the chemical reaction or inhibitor in our brain that sometime makes dream seem real.
I guess it only a dream.
A dream of the pass and it will never come true.
Gosshhh...I don't know what this blog alot about. Why I blogg it. God only knows
Now I start to think back to any moment in the past, my memory of it, and its comparison to a memory of a dream.
They are identical in that we have an inability to remember it as real as it actually was.
In biology we studied that the chemical reaction or inhibitor in our brain that sometime makes dream seem real.
I guess it only a dream.
A dream of the pass and it will never come true.
Gosshhh...I don't know what this blog alot about. Why I blogg it. God only knows
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Tired Of This Life
Tired of this life
But you want to know what it's like
Don't you want to know what it's like
Tomorrow night
Fireworks will fill the sky
Fireworks will fill the sky
And the air is so hot
Over the world below
Just long enough
Let your worry go, go
Let your worry go
Tired of your trying
But your eyes weren't only made for crying
Your eyes were made for seeing things
Tomorrow brings a brand new blossoming
It'll only make your heart sing
Like the birds so high
Over the world below
Just long enough
Let your worry go, go
Let your worry go
Tired of this life
But you want to know what it's like
Don't you want to know what it's like
But you want to know what it's like
Don't you want to know what it's like
Tomorrow night
Fireworks will fill the sky
Fireworks will fill the sky
And the air is so hot
Over the world below
Just long enough
Let your worry go, go
Let your worry go
Tired of your trying
But your eyes weren't only made for crying
Your eyes were made for seeing things
Tomorrow brings a brand new blossoming
It'll only make your heart sing
Like the birds so high
Over the world below
Just long enough
Let your worry go, go
Let your worry go
Tired of this life
But you want to know what it's like
Don't you want to know what it's like
Are they a failure or it is my failure
Now instead of being productive in work I'm writing this Blog. sighhhh
I am uncomfortable and get anxiety from all the problems and bad care, bad service and no empathy which I see everywhere.
I try to go straight home after work and meet my sweetheart, eat and drink and realx but at the same time I feel angry and frustrated of my work life.
Now days I move myself even less than before.
All this frustration gives me anxiety and sometimes I want to begin drinking, but fortunately I got her to think about which prevents me.
Everything seems pointless. I think I am a failure and worthless: silly malicious, clumsy, ugly and everything awful which one can be.
I have been in this industry which itself was or is a catastrophe because working I'm working with a bunch of MALAYSIAN MONKEYS.
For some reason this service issue is always happens.
Why all this silliness
Must I check every single thing this Monkeys doing or going to do?
Am I a miserable failure?
Am I?
I am uncomfortable and get anxiety from all the problems and bad care, bad service and no empathy which I see everywhere.
I try to go straight home after work and meet my sweetheart, eat and drink and realx but at the same time I feel angry and frustrated of my work life.
Now days I move myself even less than before.
All this frustration gives me anxiety and sometimes I want to begin drinking, but fortunately I got her to think about which prevents me.
Everything seems pointless. I think I am a failure and worthless: silly malicious, clumsy, ugly and everything awful which one can be.
I have been in this industry which itself was or is a catastrophe because working I'm working with a bunch of MALAYSIAN MONKEYS.
For some reason this service issue is always happens.
Why all this silliness
Must I check every single thing this Monkeys doing or going to do?
Am I a miserable failure?
Am I?
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