Kamusta!
::Sob:: my dad saw my fanfic, angel tears, and was shocked that a valedictorian could write on such relationships. He forbade me to write about couples, and I just got away with this. I removed angel, and I really am sad not to continue it.
Disclaimer: Rowling owns Harry-me-dear and the others. Galing mo, babe!
Who am I? Am I really the person who I am? They don't know me. You don't know me. Heck, sometimes I don't even know myself.
People often get first impressions wrong. Ask them then what they think of me. They'll say I'm evil. That I'm cold-hearted, depressed, and go as far to say that I'm just "misunderstood". But I'm not. Man sees what he wants to see. I'm not misunderstood. They didn't even care to go deeper. They don't want to. They're afraid to see a monster inside me. And most of all, they'll tell you that I loath him. That I'm jealous of him, because he's so smart and courageous, and hate him because he defeated my Lord. But I don't. I love him. I love his naivety, his innocence. And also the fact that he'll die for just about everyone. Even for me. Even for hateful, soulless me. But I can only love him from afar. And it hurts me to see him everyday, and I can't be at his side.
Pain is discipline. And discipline means holding back, not letting your true nature show in favor of their formed vision of you. My father taught me that. Pain and submission to them, to the Lord, to the one who calls himself my father.
My mask. No one can see through it. That's why I'm alone. With no one to hold me, to ease my fears, to kiss away hot tears flowing down my cheeks. Alone. What a terrible word. But that's what I am, and always will be.
"Father? Father, please...it's dark in here..."
um, yah... I do not know why I take joy in writing angst...oh, now I remember! It's because I love giving people something horrible to think about! MUAHAHAHAHA! And about those flames? Wait for me to burn in hell. That way, you can all see pretty big fires. Burn, babe, burn!
Paalam...
---'---,--{@
::Sob:: my dad saw my fanfic, angel tears, and was shocked that a valedictorian could write on such relationships. He forbade me to write about couples, and I just got away with this. I removed angel, and I really am sad not to continue it.
Disclaimer: Rowling owns Harry-me-dear and the others. Galing mo, babe!
Who am I? Am I really the person who I am? They don't know me. You don't know me. Heck, sometimes I don't even know myself.
People often get first impressions wrong. Ask them then what they think of me. They'll say I'm evil. That I'm cold-hearted, depressed, and go as far to say that I'm just "misunderstood". But I'm not. Man sees what he wants to see. I'm not misunderstood. They didn't even care to go deeper. They don't want to. They're afraid to see a monster inside me. And most of all, they'll tell you that I loath him. That I'm jealous of him, because he's so smart and courageous, and hate him because he defeated my Lord. But I don't. I love him. I love his naivety, his innocence. And also the fact that he'll die for just about everyone. Even for me. Even for hateful, soulless me. But I can only love him from afar. And it hurts me to see him everyday, and I can't be at his side.
Pain is discipline. And discipline means holding back, not letting your true nature show in favor of their formed vision of you. My father taught me that. Pain and submission to them, to the Lord, to the one who calls himself my father.
My mask. No one can see through it. That's why I'm alone. With no one to hold me, to ease my fears, to kiss away hot tears flowing down my cheeks. Alone. What a terrible word. But that's what I am, and always will be.
"Father? Father, please...it's dark in here..."
um, yah... I do not know why I take joy in writing angst...oh, now I remember! It's because I love giving people something horrible to think about! MUAHAHAHAHA! And about those flames? Wait for me to burn in hell. That way, you can all see pretty big fires. Burn, babe, burn!
Paalam...
---'---,--{@
