After being free for 10 days, I am now back to my jail. I wasn`t jailed forcefully, though. I am voluntarily jailing my self in a garden of roses. A weed trying to suffocate itself in a garden with the scent of roses. Their scent are unlike mine. They smelled sweet, I smelled bitter and sometimes, I smelled nothing but emptiness.

Each rose were meant to be a rose ever since. They're properly nurtured each day, to become the best looking flower. And I, a weed, am meant to injure them. That is how I feel.

Tomorrow will be, seemingly, terrible.

Though I won't be bored with the sight of people passing me by or, if lucky, saying 'Hi!', I`d be in misery... agony. I'm unfitted.