Hujan

11.27 and the rain keeps getting harder. But still, its hardly erase these random feelings. In fact, the suffocate is getting worse. All the thoughts of the same who, the same what, the same where.

Did you still there?

Though my mom already calmed me down, it still quite difficult to go back at normal. Knowing that something was wrong. Something unusual. Something that I lost because of my own stupidity. Damn.

Good night, dear whosoever you are whose maybe still enjoying the warm couch. Night. Night.

11.33.