Wednesday, February 4, 2009

.... (II)

I hate feeling like this. Like I am not wanted. That nobody is missing me now. Like I don't even exist.

Today, I wore pink dress and a pair of wedges which I like very much and the girls keep looking at. I stumbled about five times over my skirt. And I swore to myself because I can't slow my pace. I am a fast-walker (if such a term exist).

I feel a hollow inside my breast. Like there's a great blackhole. It will suck my happiness. And somehow, I think it whispers to me, everyday, that it's coming for my whole existence soon. Very soon.

But I make it to the class without kissing the ground, though fumbling all the way. The class was great. And I think people in the class made me feel a lil self-conscious. They were always looking my way. I shouldn't say anything...

I want to get away..

I want to get away..

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