I need to lose you for good.No you can't. I have always been with you. Right from your chubby cheek days. I never asked you to entertain me. But you used to buy me pop corn, pastries, pizzas and what not. I can't live without you. I can't think of you without me.I am dead serious this time. I have had enough. Everyone seems to be mocking me for being with you. I can't take it anymore.Please don't listen to them. Have they ever said anything nice about you and me? Have they ever stopped making faces whenever they see you feeding me? I hate them. I hate this world.I don't care about you. You have ruined my life. You drive me nuts. I just hate you. I am going to show them that I can lose you.Ok, let's see. Last time also you had said these words before you started your diet. But when you came back, I never said anything. I will always be there waiting for you.I hate you.
I have to write. Those were the words that escaped the dying man's lips. He was found lying unconscious near a mountain of blank paper. His autopsy revealed over exhaustion as the reason. But what did he want to write so badly that it killed him, no one knows. The task was designated to the junior cop who was part of the investigation team. Let's call him Namura. So here we are with Namura in a room with the mountain of blank paper. He is awed as to why should there be so many papers near a dying man. He picks a sheet on the top. He studies it. It's as blank as blank papers can be. No pencil or pen has violated its virgin whiteness. Namura thinks of the white bed sheets back home. He is tired. All he wants is to crash on his bed. He feels angry about the whole situation. Here I am, staring at a blank piece of paper, wondering why someone who wanted to write so badly didn't write a single word, while the whole world is sleeping on their comfy beds. He wanted to tear the ...
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