I've always thought of myself as a fighter. Pain, heartaches, abuses and endless fraustrations nourished the tiger in my soul. Sometimes I really wish it was the other way around, sometimes I wish I grew up with lots of love and care and kisses and hugs, but no, it was tough, it was really hard....and now here I am..with walls, with certain coldness, and with an overwhelming will to always survive...
tell me...is this bad?
I still cry...when I see children suffer, when I see mother's weeping...it melts my heart...
I still would like to think that I have a good heart, somewhere deep in the darkest corner of my soul is still an innocent child, longing for affection...the kind of affection that lasts...
But thing that I have always wished for seems so elusive...I'm getting old and I'm getting tired... where are you?
But being a tiger that I am, giving-up is never an option...I always choose to move on and in some way be happy, at least for a while if not forever...
I still believe that soon I'll get there, where ever is that place I wanna be, I will get there....and I'm gonna smile and say I made it, I did it, I finally kicked their asses....
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