It's over.
Cười.
Ngu quá. Chẳng hiểu suốt thời gian đấy nghĩ gì nữa. Cười chết thôi. Lố bịch. Nực cười, ridiculously funny. Giờ thì hết cái trò chờ ấy online rồi đi ngủ, hết trò sưu tầm ảnh, hết trò sưu tầm những thứ ấy dùng... Không còn những buổi ngồi bệt dưới đất như trẻ xa mẹ bên ngoài phòng đàn của ấy, cũng chẳng còn những thứ ngớ ngẩn như vào phòng đàn ngay cạnh để nghe ấy tập. Biết làm sao được. Ai chả có lúc ngu.
Thank you for being such a bastard. I mean it. Thank you. I liked the feeling of having you around, inhaling your scent (nothing gross, it's your adidas cologne) I like the feeling of liking you. It makes me more human. You make me realize that I am not cheap, cheap like you. I'm not a bastard, a bastard like you. Head over heels for you is pathetic enough, I'm not that kind that would spend my breath talking behind your back. I'm not that kind of a loser.
Silly you. I could have liked you, liked you truly like I never did. While she, she wouldn't even remember your name.
For you, I have tolerated so much. I tolerated you and the whole world that is against you.
Now it's over. I guess it's a good thing, like everybody else said. They say, I deserve something better. Bullshit. I don't like thinking of what I deserve and what I don't. But I know, it's a good thing. Good thing I'm over you. Cocky bastard.
No more soothing melodies, no more sexy dancing.
I loved you. I did ...once in a time...