I am getting old. We are getting old literally; year by year. My world had changed. Mom and I started to have an adult-talk. Then I HAVE TO realize that I’m not young anymore. So much things had changed. There’s too little room for any mistakes. We have to aware that life is the art of drawing, unfortunately – without eraser. Put on the colours you love, re-define your old art, stamp them by your new own way. Make the art priceless, valuable.
Feelings; they evolved. They become a lot more sensitive, and some of them are just turned out to be as feelings. Correspond to that, I know people around my circle will be more delicate, easily touched by words and actions, misunderstanding, cold war etc. I need to watch myself, I don’t want to involve in those kind of act anymore *although I, myself doesn’t seem to be that delicate. I have to learn how to take care of other’s feelings and to put myself in the same boat as theirs.
I don’t know why, but I am scared to face this fragile world, and everything.
Maybe this time, this saying really make sense – We never really grow up, we only learn how to act in public.