My hand is hurting so bad I wish I could stab right through them while I'm lying unconscious in slumber. A blessed teacher's day to all and to me, although the morning does not spell much joy upon me on this spell-casted-skied day.

It's hard to forget the world because you would be deemed selfish either way. The revolving universe stops turning its three-sixties for the victims of accidental selfishness. The only solace to this is sincerity, right down to meticulous thoughtfulness.

So now, it is already morning, with rain fogging everything that vision captures. I'd like to picture how beautiful a rain-filled morning could be, but envisaging wouldn't be it and we both know that.