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There is one thing that I love about running.


You dun stand in front of the mirror before you run and wonder what the road would think about you


You dun have to listen to a joke and pretend that it is funny.


You dun have to put that mask on and pretend everything is right when you are running.


The track wouldnt notice if you do ur hair or dressed up like a star


He doesnt care how valuable are you to him, how many you can offer, and how similar you are to him


The only thing track care about is that you pay visit him once in a while. And thats all that matter, he doesnt judge, he doesnt criticize.


I am all physic and force.


No longer do I understand the names around me, though all of them remains distantly crucial. Deep down something missed, and will never come back again.


Like how you ate one awesome heavenly food first time, then only come to realize its actually not that good the second time.


Those names cause me pain, of course that is okay. I want the pain - as much as possible. Maximum sensation, before none.

Then it comes to a point where I realized to leave is the best way to prevent further damage.


And so I did. I quit to save myself. I would never pursue the pieces that had been broken. The fragility and desperation is not something that I want.

This is why I value my headaches, despite of its destructiveness.

Because after the pressure explodes the walls of selfhood, nothing will ever be the same again.

When I heard those words coming out from people's mouth I feel funny. Who are you to talk about the things that you were never in anyway?

The sense of self is just something that men wouldnt give up.

Who are you to comment on others when you are the one who do exactly the same thing?

At that time,

There is only the cool night air caressing my face, the sound of the snowbreeze, the heavenly vault , and the weightlessness of having finally put down a heavy object.


for a few second - a few strange, lovely second - the sensation is not unpleasant. If there is anything in my mind now, it is the vague sense of relief.



and the sound of footsteps leaving, never returned.

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