I tied my hair in a low ponytail as I continued painting my artwork. The only thing that needs some attention are the detailed part of the sky. You know, the formation of the clouds, the birds, and some shades on it.After finishing it, I stared at it long enough to the point I started to hate it. Always like that. Everytime I wrote a poem, I read it over and over until it sounds very corny. It's a very weird habit.I washed my hands and clean my nails that are now stained with paints. After some minutes, I went downstairs and sat down by the sofa. It's boring and I can't escape since my parents are here. Mom is in the garden and Dad is chit-chatting with our neighbor. There's always a time like this. Where everything just seems so fine but, it's not.Yesternight, while staring at the ceiling, I imag
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