Why? I’m a boy, is that why? I’ve got feelings. I admit I’m strong enough physically. I can fight, fight for my parents’ respect, for the girl I love, for what is right. But who has ever, fought for me. I bear all the responsibilities, why? Why do people prefer a 5-year old boy in their family than a 25-year old girl? Why has the world made my image so strong that I’m afraid to show my weaker and more innocent side. I’m always regarded as a violent stud or a boring nerd. Just why is that? My parents have always waited for me to grow older only to pass on their responsibilities to me. The girl I love the most in this world, always needs my attention, but fails to give me the same, always! Oh, I forgot, I’m a man, a gentle-man indeed! How could I be weak at heart? I have a stone-heart.

I’m always there to protect my family, my love, my friends. Who’s there for me? Not a single person I can cry in the lap of. Well, crying is just a huge, dirty, black spot on my so-called masculine ego. To people, not crying means no heartbreaks, no depressions, no problems, and no pains! My only companion in the sharing of a sea feelings-the underneath of my blanket. Nonetheless, I have to go with it, and live (survive) with it!