Verily I am haranguing out of despising bore-doom.
Weets. More than I could ever share upon here. Now I am staring into spacelight upon the pygmy wee tiny but crystalline star disemblezzling itself spacing the night sky.
How beautiful, I wondered in ponder.
The wee star defines a person's life. When the weather ain't no bad, the sky unflawed azure fore, burnishing the star limelight. Same goes to a person's life. If she through a non-bad day, she will beam at the end of the day proding with euphoria.
How I wish my life would be as the weeny stars up there; halcyon, amicable, always. But never its impossible.
A sic, I always craved that someone that stay close to my heart will bring me the happiness as it is for the star.
It will only shone as a good old fairytale for me. Vagued the dream,
syarafina.