I think I'm experienced enough to realize that not everyone deserves love. I think I'm grown enough to understand that not everyone is born with a happy story tied to the ending of their life.

I think not everyone can handle such complex emotion. I think it's a grand architecture, crafted for the rest of the life. I don't think my flimsy, clumsy, tweedly-doodly hands could nurture such fragile spark. I sneeze a lot.

I think it was something warm, its light are small, trembling, I think that it's something one should put behind glass box locked with secret codes and guarded with guns. It could burn out too easily. I'm not built for such hassle. My don't give a fuck, hihi-haha me.