I cannot speak with sense now. I cannot speak sense.

But when did I? But I want to speak. Perhaps, talk is the correct term. Or blabber. Only that there's no one whom I can talk to right now. Someone whom I really trust that I can outpour.

Don't mind me. I am at it again. Ask me about it and I will tell you nothing about it for the simple reason that I myself don't get it. Yes, much of this life is too complicated, so like a complex maze, to solve and get away with easily.

Of course, I have someone whom I can talk to, speak with, blabber about, and outpour everything that I want to. Whatever that is that I want to release. Tension...tension...and the subtext of tension, I can always release whenever I arrive home.

And yes. This is so nonsense.







I told you.

Don't mind me.





Just at it again. My drama.

Damn.

I want a scandal.

A sex scandal?

It won't surely sell.

But yeah, I want a scandal.

I want to get myself in a scandal.

A sex scandal.

Sure.
I'm at it again.











Told you, don't mind me.