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kiyuso
☕ Partially active. Just blogging down my messy thoughts for the record and future references. Also a story writer, typically concerning my gays. I don't particularly have any interests. It's more like, if something piques my interests, I become infatuated or obsessed.
agenda
08/23 My Birthday
9/7 Hello Kitty Cafe Truck
9/28 Tour de Corgi
10/17 Brother's Birthday
10/31 Halloween
11/9 Ramen-o-Rama!
12/5 Wen's Birthday
musings
I write only because there is a voice within me that will not be still. - Sylvia Plath
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Confession
It's a scary feeling, being confessed to someone you have no interest in whatsoever. You just kinda stand there dumbfounded and speechless. I swear, nothing, nothing is running through your head at that moment. I, myself, was actually prepared ahead of time, but I was caught off-guard and mute after the confession. Apparently I should be asking him what he likes about me, but nothing of such sort is in my head. Just something on the lines of, "What?! What's going on, huh?" Certainly I was scared shitless. And the aftermath of a confession is the most dreadful thing, especially if you rejected that person. I faced it like a women though, I didn't avoid him and pretended everything was the same. Of course, my actions are very disgraceful to a man's pride, but yet the confessor himself didn't even look me in the eye. ~Coward, face it like a man. Just because I rejected you doesn't give you the right to give me the cold shoulder, you should've knew the outcome, you already did anyways, considering your iffy confession. Aigo~~~
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