A person who was raised immorally is nutured into a beast.
— A replica of the people they vowed they would never become.

seen from T1

seen from Sweden

seen from Netherlands
seen from Singapore

seen from France
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Poland

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Netherlands

seen from Brazil
seen from T1
seen from Syria
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from China

seen from China
seen from United States
A person who was raised immorally is nutured into a beast.
— A replica of the people they vowed they would never become.
Last letter to her
I'll miss your hair, and your face and how it's never short of the crazy mixture of adorable and beautiful, no one else could do that. I'll miss your paintings so much, and how they looked better before I cried over them. I'll miss how you could always make me laugh, when that's been fleeting for months now. I'll miss your body and its constant need for warmth. I miss your warmth. I'll miss that smile and how it made mine. I'll miss your constant concern, and how I should have never taken it for granted. I'll miss your ideology of giving me so many chances, and how only now can I feel that, when it's too late. I'll miss those mixtapes, and how you write so beautifully on them. I'll miss your eyes, and how they're my favorite. I miss the plans we had, before I let them fall through the cracks. I miss your piercings, and how you somehow made them so unique and beautiful to me. I miss your smoke, and how it calmed all the stress that I was too negligent to. I miss that hotel, and how we didn't really miss Paramore at all. I miss all those pictures of you that went into the thousands; all screenshots from snapchat. I'll miss watching both Ace Ventura's back to back with you. I'll miss how I never really watched a scary movie, until I was with you. I'll miss your lips, and how you're still the best kisser that I've ever fucking tasted. I miss holding you, and those conversations that were endless with only you. I miss you. I'll miss everything, and know that I'll never be over this. I'll miss how I didn't say more, but how I knew that it went no farther than the last. I'm sorry I didn't spend Valentine's with you, when you deserved nothing less, but so much more. Maybe I just missed the boat, and this is a life lesson that I'll regret for the rest of my life, but I'm still begging and fighting for something that seems already gone. All I can remember is the good, and all your friends let you remember is the bad. I'm sorry they even have that point to give, but I'll always be waiting for that last chance, if not so blatantly, as it is now, always in the back of my mind I'll be wishing. Tricking myself into thinking that this is just a phase. That she'll be back, and she'll give me that last chance I don't deserve. But I only need one this time, so I can keep hopelessly waiting, and I will.