Isabella's Stressed scotch🥃

I always find myself biased towards something, someone, or anything, and now it's nothing.

Why is this unhinged hierarchy causing the history and leaving me as a mystery?

Am I the fool, or im the biggest fool among all the fools that makes me the real fool?

How will people feel when they are being cornered and asked to be in the centre of the show?

All I want is to float on the water, not to drown, and to be undrownable crown;

I am not that responsible, I am respectable, but that doesn't mean I'm retainable;

Why am I leaving the home, when I can stay here forever, like never ever, or a happy nowhere?

The tears are making me blurry and making me visionless, even though I wear contact lenses.

The art of feeling nothing is not a state; it's the place where I will never be lost, lost never lasts.

Why is everyone making me an idiot, and watching me struggle? Is it a fun game or a pretty frame?

 But I never forgot that I have hell name and can summon devils if I want to, remember that.

I may be baby, darling, but not all babies are innocent, and not all darlings are goddesses.

I can be solitude, savage, or a devil's favorite, Azazel dessert, shaitan sweet candy;

I'm limoncello supreme, Isabella's scotch, Royal dragon, or  maybe the kopi luwak;

Maybe what I'm searching for does not exist at all, or am I stupid for loving the non-existence?

So what power do I have to be everyone's curse, family's luck, and friends' failure?

Being a raincoat during the summer season is the flex sunlight has to prove that it is useless use.

I may be loved, not by the way I wanted, not in a way I needed, not in the way I imagined.

I realized I'm not people's favorite, I tend to hurt them by being me, so what is the point of me?

Will being me hurt them? Then, how about measuring the bruise size as both are severely traumatized?

I destroyed the lotus silk that refused to be in the curtain, but the loyal mulberry muga material.

I hate to be the jeweler's piece, it would be nice for display, not for sale, motto.

You cannot shine brightly just because glitters are meant to shine, what about unshined glitter?

What is the point of shine when you can't accept the glitter that is caged and enraged?

I don't know how to choose, I forgot to love myself, I blame myself, I cry, I sometimes miss myself.

How does someone tolerate me, this unknown, miserable attitude, I don't know what I'm doing;

I'm struggling with myself already; why add on new dramas and dreams to my life?

I have seen many, many stories, and guess what, I could not stand myself hurting in all plots.

What could be more devasted than being done nothing wrong and being called by the sinner's name?