what is real?
if it makes me bleed, i guess, that could be pretty real. love is real, and so does pain, hatred and suffering. and i am stucked in the middle of everything.
having lesser options, not so wonderful.
with less or no option, the thing that i'm doing now will be something that i 'have' to do, not something that i 'want' to do. this makes everything not fun anymore. without fun, i can't be happy. if i were to be broke or broken, i need to at least have fun in my work. if not, i am better off dead, literally.
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