Gewgaw&Chapalang

deceptively simple

no one truly knows everything about me. no one knows my past, my family history, anything about me in its entirety… no one at all. i lie all the time. i lie at mere ‘how are you?’. it’s like a natural reflex beyond my comprehension and awareness. i’m filled with secrets and stories of the past which may just take two forevers to spill them all. the one and only unrelated person who perhaps knew bits and pieces had already died. it could serve as a warning to me i wouldn’t know. i ought to bring all secrets to the grave and keep my lips sealed for good. i’ve paid my price, got burnt and lesson learnt.