Dear Faris,
I'm still in the same hammock, and it's still indoors, but the weather decided to be way too goddamn hot. I don't know who gave it permission to be so warm, but I would like to fight them. And take their stuff. It would probably be valuable if they have the money to make technology that can control the weather.
Do you play any instruments? To be honest, you don't seem the type to. I just felt like asking a question I already know the answer to. Even if you did, you can't play them anymore. You're dead.
Do you sometimes see things out of the corner of you eye, but when you actually turn your head and look at them nothing is there? Because that's what's happening to me right now and it's scary. I don't know if I'm just paranoid or if there's something wrong with my peripheral vision or what. Do you think I'm paranoid, or do you think it's something else? There's not really anybody I can talk to but you. I write in the night, when everybody is already asleep. Are you the kind of person to do stuff when everybody else is asleep, or are you the first person to bed? I just write whatever pops into my mind. Sometimes thing are dumb. That's just how I exist.
It seems as though I have been getting more sleep deprived when writing these letters. Maybe I should do something different, write these letters in the morning or something. But I don't think I could make myself do that. So for now, I will be tired while I write this. Deal with it.
I just realized I'm talking way too much about myself when these letter are supposed to be about you. I'm sorry.
I must be about halfway through. I haven't put it through anything that can check the word count yet. I hope that when I do put it through a thing, it will be done. However, I know it never will be.
What do you think you will do, now that you're dead? Will you even ever realize? Or will you just live in denial forever? Because you do seem cool, to me at least. I would like you to realize the truth.
I just tried to copy this to put it through a word counter but it said no to that so I guess there is no word count.
An update. It works now. 275 words have been written so far, which is cool. I'm just over halfway done. That's an accomplishment, right?
I'm sorry that I keep blathering on about the word count. Maybe I'm running out of questions. I certainly hope I'm not.
My phone doesn't want me to be writing. I will prove it wrong. Does your technology ever just say no to what you're trying to do? Because mine does. A lot. I should
try to discipline it.
What's your favorite color? (Also why do Canadian people call colored pencils pencil crayons because it bugs me so much as an American it's just wrong.)
What questions do you like to ask people? (No I am not just writing that question because I'm out of questions totally not that wouldn't be me totally.)
Are you one of the people that enjoy the taste of water? Because I do, but apparently some people don't. They think it's bland. It's very sweet why do those people think it's bland who do they think they are.
Well, I guess we're nearly done here. I'm sorry if I got to off topic and didn't ask that many questions. Do you even like questions? Are you a person that gets overwhelmed by to many questions? If so, than I'm truly sorry. I must be so bad for your anxiety if that's true. Goodbye. Not forever, but goodbye.
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/342780649-288-k209873.jpg)
YOU ARE READING
Dear Faris
ParanormalA series of letters that I need to write and you need to read, with questions for both me and you.