Mess I Made

Miserable Story.

It's like you lose more than half of your self-control's existence. You want to smile yet crying at the same time. Can't stop but reminiscing everytime and everywhere those good old days pinched. Feeling alone even when everyone's there. Hating 3/4 contains of your iTunes for making you reminiscing all over again. Considering and re-considering to take or not to take the photograph on the wall, wallet, albums, notebook, and everywhere else. Stop typing the name you want to type the most when searching someone in your BBM contacts. The will to tweet exactly what you feel and blabbering out loud, but can't find any words worth it. Enhanced sharpness of the sensitiveness. Hate to share stories. It's like having a megatron of your own that blabbering the feeling you want to hide the most. Everyone's reading it by chance. Even The Beatles make you feel worse. Losing a spirit to study and attend the class. Hate to smell the same fragrance that you, honestly, want to smell the most.
And praying it will be the least, writing this post while holding teardrops.