Just thoughts

In the end, it is art that would cheer me up. So tell me why, until now I am still not going to be an Art major?

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I am a dreamer, trap in this world. I am very sorry, my dear self.

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I hate this body of mine, it is too picky,
a little too hot will annoy it,
a little too cold will shiver it,
can't stuff it with too much favorite food, it will spoil the satisfying feeling,
can't listen to the temporary favorite song on repeat, it will start to detest what it once loved,
can't lie on one side for too long, it will get numb,
can't sleep when it is bright/ noisy,
can't run, exercise,
can't carry heavy things,

incapability.

And I have not even talked about my picky mind.

They are, together, what make my life miserable. - (and precious)