Dear ghost,

No longer can I fathom those faded reality. I was incompetent. Delusional with flared ego beneath my pigeon breast. Consumed by the overwhelming fear that everybody hates me, I see your condescending big eyes who strip all my facade. You must have seen me. You must detest me. However, I, unfit for defending myself, am enamored by your tragedy. Above all, by your pure shadow.

I could have projected my hatred in your eyes or fortunately, perhaps, you truly abhor me. If so, be the judge of my falsehood. Be the one person who condemn me more than myself.

Yours even as I fear to be.

Lena's Dear Diary