I am beginning to despise my mother, yes I do not want to call her "mum". I don't want to emphasize, I don't need to. I'm probably the only person who can laugh in this kind of situation, in pain... I feel relieved, though I know not the cause of it... And please, stay quiet if you don't understand what is happening to me... I... I don't like to use foul language, I shall not use them.
Never shall I show any emotion before my mother again... Curse me for those wasted, unreal, non-lasting so called "happiness" if I do... What must happen will happen, therefore I shall still admit her as my biological mother, and only my biological mother.
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I talk about everything I think, ideas, insprations, anything. "Imagination has no boundaries", so let's let our brains go wild.
It's ME!
- Yuxuan
- Singapore, Ang Mo Kio, Singapore
- I was born on 15th November, 7am. School: Guangyang Pri Sch, Anderson Pri Sch, RI. Games: Warcraft, Audition, Rakion. Affiliation: DotA clan--XtRa. I am someone who know pain, someone you missed out like the windowpane...
Which genre of games do YOU like the most?
Links
The 6 Ways of Rakion: Chaos Force
1- Quit Whining
2- Anticipate
3- Deceive
4- Act Quick
5- Take Risks
6- No Mercy
2- Anticipate
3- Deceive
4- Act Quick
5- Take Risks
6- No Mercy
The Man in the Bowler Hat
I am the unnoticed, the unnoticable man:
The man who sat on your right in the morning train:
The man who looked through like a windowpane:
The man who was the colour of the carriage, the colour of the mounting
Morning pipe smoke.
I am the man too busy with a living to live,
Too hurried and worried to see and smell and touch:
The man who is patient too long and obeys too much
And wishes too softly and seldom.
I am the man they call the nation's backbone,
Who am boneless - playable catgut, pliable clay:
The Man they label Little lest one day
I dare to grow.
I am the rails on which the moment passes,
The megaphone for many words and voices:
I am graph, diagram,
Composite face.
I am the led, the easily-fed,
The tool, the not-quite-fool,
The would-be-safe-and-sound,
The uncomplaining, bound,
The dust fine-ground,
Stone-for-a-statue waveworn pebble-round.
The man who sat on your right in the morning train:
The man who looked through like a windowpane:
The man who was the colour of the carriage, the colour of the mounting
Morning pipe smoke.
I am the man too busy with a living to live,
Too hurried and worried to see and smell and touch:
The man who is patient too long and obeys too much
And wishes too softly and seldom.
I am the man they call the nation's backbone,
Who am boneless - playable catgut, pliable clay:
The Man they label Little lest one day
I dare to grow.
I am the rails on which the moment passes,
The megaphone for many words and voices:
I am graph, diagram,
Composite face.
I am the led, the easily-fed,
The tool, the not-quite-fool,
The would-be-safe-and-sound,
The uncomplaining, bound,
The dust fine-ground,
Stone-for-a-statue waveworn pebble-round.
Shout Box!!!
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