I've always thought, if you threw a coin in a fountain, all the wishes you'd wish for would come true. If you blew the candles out on your birthday, all the wishes you'd wish for would come true. If you saw a shooting star, closed your eyes and crossed your fingers, all the wishes you'd wish for would come true. & If you prayed at night, all your wishes would come true. I grew up expecting, I grew up dreaming, I grew up thinking that there was hope. In everything. Yet after all the recent so called, horrible, events that I've been through I still am wishing. I most definitely am still hoping for that special something to happen. That spark. And although nothing came true yet, I won't give up. Ican't give up. Because giving up is knowing you've failed, and accepting you've failed. I am no quitter. I wont give up dreaming. I'm not giving up wishing. And I'm never giving up hoping.
Sometimes I wonder, if a girl really knows how pretty she is. Regardless of who she is/how she looks like. I mean, everyone has said it before, haven't they? "Everything has its own beauty." But does that really mean something? We strive each and everyday being all nutty about how we look. Without all the layers and layers of makeup and behind all those fancy clothes we sometimes aren't even able to afford. Because we are so fond of how we actually would want to look like. Something that is known to be the whole definition of perfect. Gorgeous straight hair, perfect body, amazing skin tone, beautiful face even without a touch of makeup, and not to mention, extremely long legs.& to be honest, it was never that easy for me as well. I have days where sometimes I just hate myself because of how I look like in the mirror. More often than not, I don't see "pretty". And that's where all the endless shopping and long hours of getting ourselves ready to head out to town comes in and saves the day.Thinking of it long and hard, what is really ugly is probably s o c i e t y, itself. It gets us wrapped into this ball of insecurity just when we think its fine to look how we look like. So, I say, society can go screw itself because everyone's beautiful. Yes, that might come out as cliche but lets put the truth out there for a second. Everyone has their own perspective of what is beautiful, yes? Well, here's a thought, being perfect is boring. Being different, on the other hand, is what makes you stand out from all the rest. So know that, you are beautiful. And noooo one, could tell you otherwise.
I am terrified of what there is to come. Would the pain grow? Is it verging to become worst? I'm afraid of c h a n g e.The thought of it is enough to keep me feeling agitated. I was alone most of the time. Eating alone, singing alone & crying alone. I wouldn't want that, ever. I don't want to be forgotten.
I am frightened by the world. Yes, it made me what I am today. But I'm not sure if what I am is what I've always wanted to be. Because this time last year, I was a complete different person. I was more content. I was loud. I was crazy insane. I gave out loads of foolish grins, because there wasn't a thing to worry about.
I am troubled, it's just as haunting. I am somewhat scared of something I'm not even fully aware of. I'm confused. But I guess it's time to grow up. It's time I grow up. It's time I learn from my mistakes. It's time I become wise and put the past behind me. Because it doesn't matter as much anymore. What matters lies ahead.
She caught him staring as she smiled charyly. Alarmed by the sudden eye contact, she looked away. She couldn't tell if he had feelings for her. Was he too shy to say? His mouth is moving, but all she heard was mumbles, bridle over, and jumbled up thoughts. This time she knew she had to say something. But who were they kidding. They were both just teenagers, who had their tongue tied on jibberish. The words they know would only come out cluttering. Fuck.She would do anything to set the clock in reverse. It was obvious they were both into one another, yet neither of them wants to say it. She thinks there's another girl. And, well, for him, it's just vice versa. But is there really? Eventually that arousing feeling that was once there, wasn't anymore. And all they did was stop and stare on what could have been.
