PC: Du Juan
Years and years spent hiding under white wings where neither storm nor sun could touch me. I've laughed hard through tightly shut lips, and only politely tapped my feet to the wildest rhythm of life. My thoughts were echoes of the thoughts of others. Their ideas were the light I basked in, hoping that something unique would grow out of my own heart. Nothing but envy grew. The frame under your skin begins to crack the moment you uncover the lies you've been telling yourself these years and years. To be a creator is to be impelled by creation. To be a hack is to be impelled by praise.