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I feel sick. like I have something in my stomach. something that’s weighing me down like an anchor that’s tied down to my feet. and im in the middle of the sea, gasping for air. drowning. trying to stay up but the anchor, the anchor is weighing me down. That thing in my stomach, it wants out.  I want it out. it’s a horrible feeling. I didn’t put it there. I had nothing to do with it. it just came. it came. it barged in through my stomach and sat its entire weight at the pit of my stomach, weighing me down. And if I continue to write, I will contradict everything i would have ever said in my ”notes” on Facebook. so im not. im not gonna continue on the same topic.

Heres what I knew, but never came across a situation that I could have applied it to till recently. people are not what they appear to be. first impressions, although they DO count, they aren’t reliable. you CANT judge people just by knowing them for ONE single day. its absurd.

So here’s a confession on my first post: I never liked the new kids that came to my school. I do now. but i didnt like them. I hated them. not for something they did. but for being there.. because them being there, meant the old ones who left, were no longer there. and that hurt. it hurt knowing they wont be at CIS again. but im fine now. and I owe the new kids a sincere apology. im sorry I didnt like you. it wasnt you I was not liking.. all of you, well most of you at least, are good people. People I (Dont take it personally if you’re reading this. i have a much more detailed explanation- something  i cant jot down on this blog.)…

Yours truly,

Painted Shadow



I stare at walls hoping that something would guide me to another dimension where everything makes sense. I take life as it comes. I reside in which is now known to be the fastest growing city in the Middle East, Dubai. Surrounded by fake greenery and dusty air, I long for rain. I long for rain to drench my very being, untill i feel nothing but clean and revived. I dream of happy things and i know for certain that Peter pan and pixies and fairies and Santa exists. I know. Because theres no point in not believing. Im a child. I am a grain of sand. I am a speckle of dust in this polluted world. I am a spirit roaming the end of the earth, trying to find that wall. (Read the page Painted shadow for details)

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