Paris. It was snowing. Half-embracing the cold, half too eager to shop. The heater in the room didn't seem to be working. I practically have to hover myself with blanket and walk around the room with my jacket. Cold red rashes all over my legs and I couldn't help it but to keep scratching them.
There's a sudden urge to snip my tresses away, with strong bangs, blunt cut and cool colours. Maybe I shall do it this Saturday.
I think as the days go by, people start showing true colours and I start noticing who are the real ones.
To love me dearly or just leave me alone, please.
:)
Love.
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