friend in a bottle and wall

I've forgotten who my real friends are. 

I've reached a stage of confusion on whether I am happily living or just lavishly wanting any of it.

I once made a decision.

And it bored the stagnant in me.

I was a shopaholic. I was a drinker. My heart pumps so hard just the thought of those two. But then I dared to forget those as I seem to seek restfulness these past days. 

But then friends are really friends.

I forgot I'm friends with San Miguel.

I forgot I'm in love with hanging clothes, shoes and bags.

I forgot to live my own life in my desire to live it, actually.

But then, guess who's back.

See you later.

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