How the simple things in life are so much different from how they actually are. How people don't always tell the whole story, but only the part they want others to hear.

Sometimes we play tricks with ourselves, maybe for a reason. Maybe not.

I for one, have always been telling myself that I hate roses. I don't actually hate them, neither like them that much. They don’t look any special to me. I still don’t understand why people go overboard with them. The only thing I know is that what makes me, me, one very little thing is the fact that I try to believe that I hate roses. Mind over matter, and it actually worked. I don’t really know why I did that, but then again, most of the time, I don’t really know why I do what I do. I like the mystery and the unknown questions that lurk around.

But when others do things, the way they do, I like observing and asking them questions. Unraveling the mystery. I always like to think that the truth is far more interesting than it actually is. My life lacks drama, and this must be why I want to stir up everything.

This may or may not have anything to do with the title or the picture.