par mani.

my body isn't perfect. I don't walk with confidence. I get into wars with my family and friends. some nights I rather be by myself, than out partying. I cry over smallest things sometimes. there are some days I get trough with forced smiles and fake loughs. sometimes I try to convince myslef, that things are okay, when they're not. I'm not ugly, but I'm not beautiful. I constantly think, I'm not good enough. I'm imperfect, but I'm perfectly me. and maybe. just maybe, I like being imperfect.