Let’s start this entry with another one of my theories.

 

(Oh God not another one…)

 

Ep no groaning people!

 

I am of the opinion that (mari membuat karangan Bahasa Inggeris) as long as I’m a student, as long as I still solely depend, I would remain as this person at present.

 

Childish and immature.

 

I often wonder about moments in the past. I thought I was sensible enough back then, was confident it was the best of a person I could be yet now when I look back, those aren’t what I see.

 

It happened. And happened. And happened. And happened again.

 

It makes me wonder whether there’s even an ounce of maturity in me ever.

 

I realised it isn’t the age that portrays what we are (take my mum as the best example I LOVE YOU MUM).

It’s what the heart has tire from feeling, the zillions of abstract moments interpreted, processed and stored by the brain.

It’s the soul, the conscience and everything immeasurable and uncountable.

It’s us as a whole.

 

Respect isn’t given based on the wrinkles on one’s face or the number of gray hairs with brittle ends.

Respect isn’t served on cold platters alongside hot scones and lamb shanks in a buffet.

 

You earn it with everything you have in you.

 

Till the moment I take the responsibilities wholly on my shoulders, till I could stand on my own feet and brave the world alone, I would say I’m not even halfway there.

 

To live, you have to know life. To know life, you have to live it.

It’s the chicken and the egg.

 

I’m not wise, I know that. I’m not even close to being mature.

 

So people should stop complaining how I always bully/tease/play pranks/being overdramatic on my friends can onot!!

 

I’m a licensed immature-er.

 

 

And that’s why I selalu gaduh with her.

 

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Gosh she’s so weird.

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