sdkddkkskiwwiwiwiwiwjwjwwjwjwisididididdididisisisjsjskskwk kdek jek ks kdkxk kskejwjdjwkeifkwkdkedjwjdjsjsjwjsjsjsjddjj djjddjejdi kdkdekwkwkdkwjdjwjdjwdjjdjejdjedjwjsjsjsj kddkdkdke. djeejejdjdjejeje

Can a person, who's never been in love, tell love stories? Will you care to listen? --- A collection of my imaginations involving the word 'love' to those who crave the feeling of being in love. Just wanna gather the random scenarios that goes inside my head because I'm single and I don't have anyone I can divert my attention to. (╯︵╰,) (｡ŏ﹏ŏ)

The voices never stop. It keeps going, night and day, continuously as if it’s part of my whole being. Whispering things I can’t seem to understand. They were too many of them. I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t handle it anymore. And so I did what I think it was right to do at that moment. My hand made its way under the cold pillows, it’s wet and damp. My fingers touched a cold sharp surface; it’s so cold to my hand I feel like it’s already piercing through my skin. I slowly pull it out, the lightning flashed and the foreign object sparkled against my fingers. At the flash of the lightning again, my face reflected on the broken shard of the mirror. I see my own face, stained with tears, looking tired and lifeless already. The voices are getting louder; even the teddy bear sitting on the table seems to be laughing, mocking me. The crystal-like tears are filling my eyes until the teddy bear becomes a blurry vision to me. “I just want to rest,” I whisper to the glass as if I’m telling a secret and only the flashes of lightning are my only witness. I look around and bitterly smile. Slowly, I bring the broken mirror close to where my pulse is. And slowly, like a rhythm I meant to enjoy, I pierce it through the flesh, slicing through the veins, into the beating pulse. I close my eyes. I try to feel. Nothing. No pain. Only darkness.