Their attitude towards me.
Sometimes makes me feel like I'm abandoned, sometimes my suspicion seems totally wrong.
And I'm just waiting in vain.
This is only a fat hope after all.
The photographs. They speak a thousand words.
Though ambiguous, they mean at least something.
Why does it always rain on me?
I'm just none of those perfect ones who deserve a perfect one.
Sometimes I just hate myself for being me. But there's no point in it.
Things just won't turn out to be like what I've been expecting.
Sighs. Too high an expectation.
No good. Must resist myself from doing it again. But, how?
Prelims.
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