why?...

Listening to When I believe and crying like a little girl...
Why?
Always me?
Why??

Remember the first time walking with Alice back home. It was raining heavily and I was wearing my tank top. The sainsbury bag got teared off. Without umbrella, I hardly managed to get back. Alice told me, it's my unlucky day. Chuckling me could only response, if this is what you call unlucky, then my everyday is unlucky.

I know I barely have 'big' unlucky things happened in my life. But so many 'little' fucked up matters are putting me down day by day. Since these things are small and I've always been (pretending) too tough, I find myself having trouble to complain, to cry out and to share the pain. There's always something stuck in my throat and deep in my chest. Can't breath...Just wanna let them out, all these thoughts. Wanna run away and shout at this shitty life.

Don't have enough words for this. Shall I just cry quietly?...Quietly? I won't bother you. I promise.