I woke up with a headache this morning. Not from the lack of sleep that has been haunting me for the last few months. Nor it is from the soon-to-be-expired bread I ate last night. But rather from the thought that I've lost a lot of things lately. I'm not sad. Indifferent, in fact. I am used to people leaving me for how shitty I am to them. Yeah.... life happened, I guess. I'm not gonna rant about them, actually. It's already in the past; I barely remember what happened and why it happened. But this morning, my lucid dreams got more vivid than usual. I can see clearly the tears running down my cheeks. I still remember the fake sausage I ate in my dream with one of my friends that I really love. I walk past this long hall full of pictures of me with someone I shared my past with. As I fell deeper into the endless sorrow of past life, I saw her again, my kryptonite. I know it sounds cheesy, but nothing describes it better. For I love her with all of my heart and soul, see...
This is a story about a not so nice guy who like to write