" Holding onto hope,
Five floors beneath the atmosphere,
Seven hours till we land,
And it all will be just souvenir,
Of the sand we bottled up,
On the other side of the Pacific Ocean,"

- Inamorata - Ryan Mitchell Grey

The song can't stop replaying in my head. Like literally, can't.stop.replaying.

I've learned something recently. There will come a time that people just don't like you, not for what you did or what you said, but just because. And you need to learn to be okay with that. Need to accept that reality is a far cry from the ideal world that we once were forced to believe in so that we had beautiful childhood, and we would be happier at least during those innocent times in our lives.

I guess I have been denying every single thing that had happened to me. I had always believed that things would turn out to be okay. S/he would smile to me again. Ex-es can talk to each other without feeling the pain that they've caused one another back then. The world would be a better place. No children would ever be abused. No one would be able to even have the thought of aborting babies.

But those - never happened, do they?

I'm not sure if I'm being pessimistic or realistic now.

I've wanted a world with so much love that you couldn't even find hatred in it. But love won't prosper without hate. Those adjectives, though are antonyms to one another, compliment each other just the same.

This world is not an ideal world, Liyana. You need to do something to make it a better place.

Some people have been telling me to start with being a better me, which is true in a way, but by being a better me, I can't tell people how the world is f*cked up (pardon the F word, I've been cursing a lot since I've been in Aussie) and tell others to do the same.

Some have been telling me that I need to do something, branch out, understand the world. Understand that those differences actually bring something good out of the human race. Which is true. But the pain from having you yourself denied, from being invisible, because you have such a small voice (which is significant to some) with those trials to make something big come true.

And I can't risk myself to get there.
To become invisible among billions of people.
And to let myself get heard in some ways after my points have been taken serious of.

This world isn't a playground. You fall and you need to get back up. People can only shout, 'get up', but you need to do everything on your own.

And you, Liyana, still think this world is indeed a home.

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