one day, my need for perfection would envelope myself, and i won't see anyone in the mirror, but only the flaws.
all the papers were fine, but i wonder if my marks will be.
last night, i dreamed of babies. dead babies. babies with their body parts chopped off, and stored in rubbish dump. people going to that particular rubbish dump to search for baby body parts and surgically attach them make, and complete them into an alive one. one that will grow up. i remember a baby's head in a box, only the head. and the guy at the rubbish dump says that most people come at 1030 in the night to pick and choose the baby parts. they were like toy's parts, all limbs but without the screws, only with the blood. the place felt so inhumane, so cold, and so real. i don't know why i dreamed of it, and i really want to know why. but apparently, the fact remains that i have dreamed of dead babies with their limbs chopped off and being selected my prospective parents to assemble them together, and the dead body parts eventually come to life. real life people that walked around normally.