like how everything beautiful has a sadist side to it, every sadism has a beauty to it.
just like how Anne Frank (put aside the fraudulence) lived in such beauty in the annexe despite the violence going on outside and around her.
in the midst of this nightmare, i see a beautiful dream whereby i walk along the halls of Singapore Poly, fringe up and surrounded by wonderful new friends.
i see the younger twin asking around, a year from now, asking of my whereabouts. i see that look of remorse and pride on his face when someone tells him, "Creative Writing in TV and New Media at SP."
i believe that this is the only thing which might be able to push me to study hard.
truth is, there is something else that i'd rather push me, but i should believe otherwise.
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