"What to write? What to write?" I said to myself as my finger is dancing around aimlessly on the keyboard.
"What to write?" I'm thinking as hard as I can but to no avail; no thoughts, no idea come to mind.
All I could think of is: what to write. Fuck it, I'll just write anything.
I remembered that one day when we were hanging out at your place doing nothing. Your hands around my neck and your breathing next on my ear, whispering not to let you go and that I should stay one more day. You laughed and looked up at me and apologized for being so selfish but you couldn't help yourself.
