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I know that at some point, I need to correct things that I made wrong; to resolve them and to replenish them. There are many ways the wind hisses grass, and yet they are still on the ground. They get dried up when they are done, but the new ones sprout if the ground is fertile. They face their fate of getting dried up and mixing with the nutrients of the soil, but they regrow to the same type on the same location.

I feel like I am composed when I start fixing things out. I begin by organizing my things in my room. I don't know, but honestly, they kind of symbolize that I have finally moved on from the previous chapter of my life. They get fixed, and they look okay again, even better than how they looked like before.

So, before all of the fixing part, my room was a scattered place. Things get shattered and some were missing. I didn't care they exist (or if they were gone). My only concern was that I better have a good sleep and wake up doing mundane things.

Until I realized that I should start all over again.

And I fixed my room again.