Yes Sir! Yes Mam! This is at the ungodly hour in the morning when the losers of the world sit online waiting for someone, anyone, everyone to come online. They put spirits inside them and blow out sweet smoke and get ready to pour their guts out in streams of zeros and ones.
Bits, bytes and datastreams of emotions flying all over the internet and everyone loves it. 'We are communicating,' they say, 'thou shalt not disturb us!'
They spend their day for these moments, these rabid desires that make them want to 'communicate'. The rope of their life held together by this fucked up desire to be alone and yet, be wanted, be missed, be kissed, be fucked.
By someone. By anyone. By everyone.
They love it.
This might be about me, this might be about you, this might be about anyone or everyone of us.
Tomorrow, we sum up the sum of past seven days. Hope I will see you here tomorrow.