Huh. 2020 sucks. in Just a diary of Hart

2020.
My motorbike lover, choir singing uncle passed away on May a week after my birthday.
My beloved, most sensitive and humble elementary teacher passed away 3 months after.
My aunt passed away 5 days ago, well, I don’t really know her. However, she looked like a nice person.

2020.
I almost killed myself 3x. Another one in 2018 and 2019.
Some friends saved me. Some didn’t care.

2020.
I’m just his fwb. No more. No less. But he said he cares. I don’t know.
He cussed and hurt me. But did hurt him more.
I broke his heart in late 2019. A karmic reaction for me.
I broke another piece of his heart in January, February, March, April, May,
June, July, August, September, October, and now November.
But it’s okay, hence I learned more not to trust anyone.
And I have to love myself first before I touch his soul again.

2020.
Pandemy. Covid19. Maybe the government, maybe the China, maybe just the bat.
Maybe, maybe is the key.

2020.
Playing games, making music, eating more food, loving my makeup, singing all previous
Taylor Swift’s songs. But some of my friends quit playing game I play, quit being my friends,
and some almost quit their life.

2020.
Shut the fuck up, you motherfucking asshole year. I’m tired.

Last updated November 19, 2020