Sometimes when I'm laying in bed ready to sleep, the room is dark with a little light on the side.
I imagine, I imagine another life, another time. Like envisions; they turn into short stories almost ALL THE TIME.
In dream land where Louis, Zayn...
"Is he out yet?" I asked, sitting on the ground having enough with my soar legs.
"Not yet," They replied. I huffed just hoping my waiting won't be in vain.
"Tell me when, my legs are killing me"
"Okay Red Lips," The boy smiled
Because if I really get to meet him, then I'm one of the lucky ones. No question most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs, "He's out!" One of the males said. I shot up like a rocket, I was saying something poetic I was thinking something really special. All gone now, I felt my tears spilling cursing myself. My makeup! I pulled my phone camera checking myself out. Oh look at that my makeup washed off! It's not even there anymore, I washed my face with a water bottle and patted my face dry with a tissue I had applying my chopstick all over.
(Top shop lip stick; pic)
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Adjusting my scarf I prepared myself mentally, the fans I was with called him over and he kindly approached us. I remember wanting to note the feeling so I took my dairy out, ready to ask for autograph. I quickly opened an empty page:
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I want remember today, the day I met him. This' s me doing what I've been dreaming about, it's perfect Tonight.
