I had a jar filled with chocolates that I keep for myself.
It never ran out of chocolates - I always refill it everyday.
For I am such hungry, addictive, craving for more.
And only my chocolates in my jar and fill my needs.
For each I take, it fills itself another two.
Every piece I take is another to fill.
Oh, how I love my chocolates in the jar.
It fills my my stomach - I could eat it forever.

I already had that jar since  was a little.
I found it from nowhere, I can’t remember where.
Ever since I can’t stop eating.
Knowing that it would never ran out, I eat endlessly.
Day by day, night by night.
Every year I make, I ate, and ate.
The jar is also getting bigger and bigger.
More for me to eat and take.

But there came a time where the jar gets large.
I couldn’t get it out, it is now heavy.
And too big to get it out of my room.
Therefore I stay inside with the jar of chocolates.
I couldn’t leave my chocolates.
I need it more than anyone.
My chocolates is my life.
My chocolates is everything for me.
A year later, the jar is too big.
It blocks the door, I couldn’t leave.
Nevertheless, I keep eating and eating.
My beloved chocolates, it  is really my everything.
I ate it all day long.
I ate it like there’s not tomorrow.
I ate it until the chocolates on the jar overflows.
I ate it until my room is filled with chocolates on the floor.
Continuously eating, one chocolate at a time.
But my hunger is strong, I take as many as I can.
Grabbing every chocolate, I eat as fast
I’m in love with my chocolates - I want to marry it now.
More, more, my body is filled with chocolates.
All I could think is my chocolates, nothing more.
I don’t care about anything, I just want my chocolates.
But my room is now full of chocolates  -  and I’m getting drowned of it.

An imaginary world where anything exist.
One’s imagination it all you need.
To write is to create - an endless possibilities.
Word by word, phrase by phrase, a reality within one’s mind.
A swing of a pen and it shall become.
Line between line, a story is made.
A reality to the characters within.
A world where her story begins.
With the stroke of my pen, I created a world.
A world where my character would live.
A peaceful town, bountiful of blessings.
And thus, she was born - safe and healthy.
Continuously writing with my pen in hand.
I skipped the details until she’s nine.
Grown to be a pretty little girl everyone adores.
But now it has come - it is time to get the story done.
The enticing blank paper allures my imagination.
An empty space where everything is possible.
A swing of my pen is all I need.
And it shall be done, created, thus shall happen.
My hands moved without even thinking.
Slowly and slowly, the conflict will be done.
For out little girl, trapped inside an unknown ground.
Finding her way out, crying while calling for someone.
Seeing this in my own imagination.
I can’t help by to make her suffer more.
It is my story and she’s my character.
Whatever I wrote shall be her fate.
I moved my pen once more.
And make it rain for her to feel cold.
Enlarged the forest, and make her hopeless.
Seeing her dull eyes makes me what to hurt her more than twice.
Hearing her scream with her lifeless voice.
It is nothing but a music into my ears.
I made her more and more hopeless - a chill on my spine.
Slowly taking her life had never this so fun.
As she took her last breath, I feel empty.
I never thought my story meets and ending.
To see my own creation lived until I end it.
I couldn’t help but to think that I would like to switch places.
And now I’m back being an ordinary girl.
To which I am nothing but an average human.
Living in a world where it is bound by rules.
Where I wonder, is there a writer behind it all?
Whoever it may, I have my pen.
That’s all I need to create my ideal end.
A pen that can make anything possible.
A world where I am the character of my own.

I am not alone.
I just secluded myself.
From the outside world.

There was a place where children goes.
To have fun while learning, for their future so.
Four walls, a roof, and a person in-charge.
With the board and a chalk, a new class is starts.

Half of the day is for learning new things.
And the rest is for them to decide.
The night still part of the learning.
Doing homework and projects, and then I became tired.

Every day I need to wake up early.
Prepare myself as for school is in the morning.
Sleepy as I want, I can't help but to get going.
For I am, and I should, go to school whether I like it or not.

First grade, Second grade, each year, new class.
New topics, new classmates, how am I suppose to catch up?
A year is not enough, yet they forcing me to learn.
For they are elders, and they know what is the best for me.
Failure is disappointment.

Third grade, fourth grade, and the following grades.
Each time grade I step is another year of punishment.
I don't like it, I hate it, this is not learning.
All they do is to force me to learn things I don't want.

If there's something I don't understand.
They ignore me and go on with the class.
Test coming up, I got a failure grade.
They blame me for I can't understand.

Why? Why? I'm trying to learn all those things.
But if there's anything I don't unerstand, everyone ignores me.
How? How? How could I learn what you're teaching?
Everyone keeps ignoring me, how would I supposed to learn?

Year after year, the fun of learning disappears.
Yet they all act like it is a fun thing to do.
What am I supposed to do if I am treated like an idiot?
Everything they taught, I don't understand a thing.

Bullied, ignored, punished for unable to learn.
School isn't fun, that's what I know.
Forced to learn, forced to follow.
I see no difference than that being a prison.

School is scary, I don't want to go there anymore.
My room, my room is the place where I belong.
I don't care whatever people tell me about the school.
It's all lies, I'll better of dead than going back there.

Even if my parents gets mad at me.
Even people hates me.
Even if the whole world is againts me.
I will never, ever go back there.
Never.
For the rest of my life.
Never.
Even if they hurt me.
Never.
Even if they convice me.
Never.
Whatever the will tell to me.
Never.
I don't want to go there.
I don't want to see it either.
I wish that school doesn't exist.
It is a scary place.
I will never ever go there anymore.
Never.
Never.

Read down.
--------
I am different.
That is because.
I do not care what they do.
I do not do the same thing as they do.
But I do not care.
All of them.
They tease me.
They laugh at me.
Because I am different.
I ignore them.
I stay silent.
I do things on my own.
I love what I do.
I am unique.
That's what I tell to myself.
They are all the same.
----------
Read up.

As long as I live.
I need to follow the rules.
Never question it.

As long as I live.
I need to learn everything.
Never question it.

As long as I live.
My parents are always right.
Never question it.

As long as I live.
I need to do things I hate.
Never question it.

As long as l live.
I will always feel the pain.
I just ignore it.

As long as I live.
People will make fun of me.
I just ignore it.

As long as I live.
People wants me out their way.
I just ignore it.

As long as I live.
Colds prevents me to do work.
I just ignore it.

As long as I live.
I'll never feel happiness.
I give up on it.

The things that are wrong.
Are things that many people hates.
That's how wrong things born.

The me that you don't see
Hidden under the mask.
Everything you know about me.
Those are all lies.
Removing my mask is the real me.
Under the facade you know is what I am.
Tell me now.
How do you like the real me?
Is this what do you expect?
Scary? Frightening?
Are you scared of me now?
Look at your face.
I see disappointment.
Everyone of you doesn't understand me.