loving has its own drawbacks, isn't it?
ain't all rainbows and unicorns
nor about all joys of spring,
but rather a conquest route
of mixed emotions,
euphoria and melancholy both alike.
Three hundred sixty five days of
storm and calmness, hopes and trials,
efforts and failures, spark fizzing off and on,
it was an endless battle.
but, in spite of all the challenges
you've emerge with a warrior's heart
fighting through the rain and spring
and helped me turn my can'ts into cans
and my dreams into plans.
In the end, you, we still stand firm,
continuously fighting and still trying.
cheers to taking chances, going out of
our comfort zones and making the most of it.

long story short,
I survived, with you.

-

It's been five hundred and six days down the lane
and I still loathe the day you left.
Pain compelled me to scribble as everyone celebrates this day,
but I do not have you with me.
 
Healing isn't a linear path.
It swerves on days like this.
A bolt of emotion strikes within me.
Envy, sadness, and longing for what I know I can only wish.
 
I will forever hold you in my memories.
May the wind deliver my message
and let it be known how much I miss you badly.

-

of the upcoming war
between two races,
vampire and werewolves.
Both are fighting as to
who will reign and
who's more powerful race.
The red moon,
is the sign where
rain of blood will pour
down the ground.

-

What if an exact copy of me exist?
For her sake, I hope she's
living out a life almost but not
quite identical to my own..
Without second thought,
I will opt for a trade..
Maybe...
Switch places!!
Me to her...
Her to me...
If only it comes as
easy as I say..

-

Happy birthday to the
professional photographer of yq!

-

Happy birthday to the most
energetic Mama in the world.

-

Today,
I'm selling my little brother,
those interested, just dm me.

-

If you see a mother
loving her children
unconditionally,
a mother whose patience
like an endless river,
a mother clothe in
selflessness and strength,
a mother who's wearing
a tiara of wisdom on her head
and sword of kindness
coming out from her tongue.

Don't be surprise,
that's God's love and light
reflecting unto her.

-

The thing about
writers is that,
they bleed poetry
and stories to
express their pain.
And then,
they will read them
just to bleed again.

Unlike most people,
writers don't forget pain,
they cherish it through words.

-

Dear Chote Bear,


First of all, I don't miss you.



Love,
Até Teddy

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