It’s 3 a.m. in the morning and I want to talk to someone. Not the kind of talk that’s romantic or stuff. I crave real conversation. About so many why’s and how’s and where’s and When’s? I wonder if there’s someone who could talk to me in person. I am also sick of calling people to talk — where I know nobody gives a shit actually. So, in real — I want the kind of talk, where there is an argument. Where the other person do not let me finish my sentence and I do back the same. And, Also it isn’t very important that the conversation be about some high-tech thingy. I am a normal person with super abnormal thoughts. It’s okay if you talk stupid with me. I have no issues if your brains are completely brand new! ^^
Let’s begin with measuring the length in time. Or, how the colors work. How the atoms revolve? Or, may be about the stars. Let’s talk about the things people wonder about. Let talk about fish or seashells, about the falling stars, Let’s talk stupid and crazy and non sense. About the darkness, the gravity, the humidity, the skin on us. About my irksome mood swing right now that is making me write this. And, I don’t know who you are and where you are and why do you exist so much in my head, my thoughts, my dreams and in every blink of my eye. I don’t know why’s is it that I don’t even know you and you’re there so much and even there’s a different connection, too. I don’t understand why do you happen so much and why do I talk to you so often when I know you are not even listening and and aren’t aware of this either. But this is real. I talk to you – and I hear you back too — every time I close my eyes. I say the things I have never said and you say them all too. and you know what makes you so adorable? That you aren’t even real! And, I know unreal things and people never leaves.
And, somewhere, through all of this I know I didn’t make any sense at all. But, I do not know how to gather up my mind, I don’t know how to rhyme up words anymore and make a readable thing from what’s there in my head. I tried, and I messed it up even more. But, Ironically, I somehow am not a loser who doesn’t say what they want. I want you,and you’d never believe that it’s you. So, I talk crazy because I do not know how to tell you and I do not even know where you are or whether you exist or not? I’m so afraid I’m making my imaginary people real and more afraid because I know they’re just thoughts.