Nothing much but a wednesday. Nothing more but just a crush. Nothing that i should care at which i hate my heart did so. Love isn't important as long as you don't hurt each other. Wanted so much once but now i feel so irritated with this kind of feeling. Not even a single bit of me feel happy with all the nonsense i made. Satisfaction is never my word. And hyperactive is just a superficial layer to view at. What you know about me? Who ever know about me? who ever cares? who bother? I ain't been emotional. Just asking some questions that meant just to be a question. Just tear yourself into pieces. That is what you gain from what you want.

There is a truth, knowledge never betrays you.

Dear Anatomy.