Seriously, I am almost pressed to death by eveything right now.

It's hard to guard what you have in this moment,

you know, especially when you are forced to,

I mean, when you are unwilling to.

(Not everything is forced,

sometimes it's because I don't want to be reguarded as a freak.)

  This year is harsh to me in all respects,

I just wish it can finish as fast as possible.

  I can't deny that I can do nothing with it to save myself,

and sadly, I can only accept it.

  I know I will leave here, I just don't know when,

I always convince myself with these unreliable words.

Because I know I don't belong here,

I can never blend in.

I thus realise that who I am and the way I exist is the best way to survive in here.

  I'm the girl who live in the past, whose spirit is in the future and never stay in the present.

Right, I'm escaping to the things in front of me,

and I don't even want to take a look on it.

  Woefully, I'm writing the past,

my agonies, the history that I am reluctant to admit.