Saturday, February 20

I woke up late, so what's wrong?

People judge.
By what I wrote here; by whom I go out; by what's on my skin.

Close friends seldom do the judgment. I could fart in front of them. Make silly faces without a slight embarrassment. Ate like pigs with them. I kicked their ass. They swallow my flaws, just like how I've swallowed theirs. They don't judge, neither did I. It goes on without a tiny judgment.

Well, you know who you are.