Sometimes, I ask myself what I did wrong. Why I don't have friends like anyone else? A friend to lean on, to make jokes about anything, to tell your secrets and gossip about the happenings of someone's life. Now, I get it, when someone tells me I'm not into the joy of life.
Today, I still can't figure out what I want to be, and what I need to do. It feels like in this longest time of my life I'm still stuck in the deepest part of my soul. The deeper it is, the darker it makes.
I don't have someone to talk to about how I feel these past few days. It seems that I can't express myself comfortably with my thoughts hiding in my mind. So, maybe I'll use this platform as a diary of my day-to-day life.