ready to try anything new.
clothes. unapologetic food junkie. the arts. staying out late at night. trying out new things. treating every day as if it's his last.
Being an only child isn’t any achievement at all. It is not being special. It is somewhat a warning. A warning that you will suffer throughout your existence. Those moments that you wouldn’t even have that chance. That particular chance to fight for yourself. Other people can’t and won’t be able to do it for you. You are used to having it your way. When something goes wrong you can’t have a choice of doing it your way. I was embarassed. As good as optionless. I hate this. I hate me.