We stopped talking...

[I was weird enough to stop talking with you, stop all that we shared once. And now after a year or so, I still don't know why did I stop.]

Was a time when we freaked out,
under the sky, in the darkness, 
in the rain and in winter...

was a time when I told you
how much fun we have together,
singing in the pubs,
looking at eachother
cracking jokes, breaking heads,
getting drunk in laughter

and then, time stopped

stopped our conversation, 
you stayed amazed, in wonder
I stopped the fun, the chores under the sun
I stopeed the song, 
Stopeed the chats which were once long...
I created a blank, which wasn't white
a vaccuum that made me fight
fight with myself..

You call me an egoist,
a weird old man with a strange twist
But that's not me... 
I must have had a reason, reason that I stopped,
Inside my heart and in mind, I was slopped

I thought so...

I thought I would make a good romantic story writer. But I think I was wrong. Romance is not really something that comes out of me naturally. 

I enjoy talking about the other side of life, the side which never existed. I love writing about things which were never there. I cherish over-thinking.

I don't like red and pink and yellow as much as I love grey and white and black.

Now you know him, don't you? ;)

T	R	E	L
S	T	E	L
Y	O	R
E	W	O	P
R	O	F	A
R	G	A	N
A	M

Are you?

Roy Stellert?