Gia'S Notebook
Little heartbreak Gia

I believe, in the sky, many prayers go by asking for strength. One of them, my prayer.

In the sky, there was a very beautiful figure, my father. Although the sky had looked dim, but my prison for her never disappeared.

The sky dripped with water to make me happy, the rain was his name. Rain is my friend, he can hide the lara man. I've always been crazy in the dark...

My trust in someone is gone. My only trust now is in the sky. Although not eternal, but nirvana is only there for him.

Living under the sky, dying above the sky. There are no special people in the world.

Then, should I look for the old me? If I were now much happier.

I'm so tired of looking, if the end stays the same.

I'm traumatized by a new relationship. My house is solid, but it's broken inside. No one can survive. Slowly everything went away without saying goodbye. They are just guests I can't force to stay.

If only stop by, but not stay, for what?

If happiness is temporary, what is it for?

I'd rather be in a long time of sadness.

If the tip just makes you feel bad. Better by yourself, right?

Now I understand that the hardest invention is self-discovery.

However, with loneliness, I can pay more attention to myself. But all I found was failure. There is nothing to be proud of, as my mother said.

I still remember the words you said while he was alive. Here's what he said, "Gia, my son. You've been through a lot of hard things, and others may not necessarily be able to do as well as you. Walk slowly. I'm proud of you, son."

Only my father is proud of me, although I don't really know where he's proud of.

My unfinished ambition. The desire that is relentless. None of it materialized. Should I write on a piece of paper and fly it in the air?

Then, is the longing always dark, even visible? Did anyone die because they could not endure the longing?

I know, through the sin that is enjoyed, a man can learn to mature.

Then, what about my flat life? Where is my maturity? Did I make a mistake? Wasn't I the one who was miserable all this time?

I feel like I always know better how other people should be living their lives. But stupidly, I don't know how I should live my life. In fact, others don't listen.

Why do people often act at will, without thinking about others?

When they like to leave. When their grief returns. Am I a psychologist? The task should be to listen and to be a tranquilizer.

As for me, who should I go to? Should I go to a real psychologist?

The listener has problems too. Listeners also have a limit of patience. If the person does not want to follow the solution we have, with the aim of making it better. What's to be done?

I'm sorry, if I don't fully understand your feelings, understand your situation now. Because I don't understand who I am.

No matter how much, and no matter how much I advise you, nothing will be done.

A good listener needs a good listener too, right?

Said there was a sweet potato there was taras, there was a thought there was a reply. But, where's the reply?

It's hard to find people who are equally eaten, nothing alike sought. Because the one who is looking is just me.

Every day there is always a problem behind the problem that has been solved.

Something that should be enjoyed, but because fate is not good, cannot be enjoyed.

There is no point in fighting with others, because the end is just competition. Better to fight with yourself. Make sure peace comes.

What will fight? Fight for all the remaining bodies...