I have survived high school, the craziness of college years, the struggle of working under pressure, the prestigious masters degree, a merit title, a decent job, a dozen of exes, Harry Potter evolution, Steve Jobs death, the immaculate study experience, and an hour sitting with butter beer, a cute guy and feminism popularity.
Another 26 years of my live, might as well another cycle of life and love. Perhaps an achievement, perhaps my parents satisfactory comment of my life choice, or a few friends who stay.
The remaining hours I have in this life, well hypothetically, if I knew, would be the best remaining hours I would spend. I don't know, making stupid decisions, taking wrong paths, being good to strangers, slapping self in public, giving more to the needy, and probably playing more games on my phone.
For the past five months, I have learnt loads of stuff about how to survive life crisis and mental disorder problem, not to mention the heartbroken healing progress. You know, it's never hard for a girl like me to disguise what I hide. It takes extra careful attention and certain nights out and in together to tell me if there's anything wrong with my mood, my eyes or why my smile isn't sincere enough for a cheerful day.
It takes bigger heart than ever to swing harder.
I flap my wings wide enough to get me to a comfortable altitude, a better view, and bigger vision and a wider wisdom.
It takes you to keep me sane, between this senseless surroundings and all the life ridicule.
