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Ghost of You

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You know what, so quiet today. You didn't call nor answer, you didn't text nor reply, you didn't tweet nor DM-ing. You didn't even whisper to me… What's wrong? :@

I was hysterically panicked. I walked alone across those streets. :~ Swinging… Singing… losing control of self consciousness, holding the resentment of absurd clarity of your exist nihilism, beating the restless of stupidity and thought of you, or drawing the confusion of water falling from my pitiful eyes, yet those were I was doing.

Laugh at me, it was so fucking hilarious. :r

Darn…!

You haven't come to me in form yet. But you're always here. You're a ghost. You're a ghost of my imagination. You're my lover. You're my heroin. You're damn ghost. You're you. And I love you. Still you're ghost. Yeah I, myself had made you ghost.

But Honey, though it's so silent today I felt you'd followed me. You followed me into the class, you followed me walking across those streets, you followed me jumping to one occasion of past to another. You followed me or guided me?? Or vice versa? Or even I did?? But then, I could feel your hands hold mine; I could see your evil smile jeopardized my conscious mind; I could embrace your warmth in the comfortable way.

:k You know what? Knowing that meeting, talking, or chit-chatting with you will be the bestest things ever happened to me. :$

But right now, in this moment. I want to stop wanting you. I want to stop feeling twisty pain at having a day alone.

Teng Tooong…!!!

Pretty (damn) sure, honey :k

I have a PMS. :v
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