She thought she was growing up, but now she was questioning it. She was facing it, facing those situations that had oft been part of her adoloscent dreams, those dreams that seemed like a distant reality. It was finally there now, right before her. Everyday they were staring at her, hard and strong. Everybody said "this is life". How could something as personal as life be generalised? No one had the right to define it, let alone advice her.
What she did, how she did, the way she expressed was her own individual choice. If she felt jealous, it didn't mean she had to grow up. If she felt possessive, it was her nature. Aren't people made different? If she wants to kill she will, if she wants to ruin, she will... If she wants to have her way she will.
Who can afterall define right and wrong? A million times, each time there is no conclusion, no answer, and more questions.
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Who can afterall define right and wrong? A million times, each time there is no conclusion, no answer, and more questions.
So very true.
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