Back in those days, time flowed slower, reality was much less real; I was living in an abstract illusion, lying to myself. As I started to be conscious of the abnormal happening around me anon, disenchanted, I realised the fact that for real self-esteem is not derived from deceitful posturing but an appreciation of my true self for what I am. 



Retained inside these walls, an unique universe is formed from the composition of dramatic imagination.


Feeling Inspired.

What I have got today is something senseless. It's simply a number with no meaning. Some pay a lot of attention to it, contemplating what steps they have to take next. Some get enraged against themselves, showing remorse at everything they've done in their lives. Some see no blight on their future, rejoicing at those three digits. I, meanwhile, feel nothing but inspired.