Comments, whatever: Inspiredby Jay Chou'ssong 'An Jing', written in a smokey haze and a coughing fit at my grandmother's house. I swear, everyone there act as if they don't have tomorrow to smoke. Jesus. Anyway. I like it. It's nice. Frecky is nice. XD

Silence-

Silence. Or almost, but of course I never pay much attention to the howls of the wind that cursed the cold winter midnights. You would, I think, call it insomnia, but I disagree.

Shades of midnight blue remind me of you suddenly and honestly, I'm not sure quite why, exactly. I suppose it doesn't matter now- assuming anything does.

It's too quiet without the ever-present voice that rang out so often beside me- so often I actually toyed with the idea of telling you to shut up once in awhile. Mostly, though, I enjoyed it.

You were, after all, disgustingly peppy and optimistic. It still makes me wonder why I -ever- bothered with you. The fact that you made me smile a little more often might've had something to do with it, but then, you always told me (with a very annoying smirk) that it was 'just because I love you.' Who knows? It really -doesn't- matter now.

I look upwards- tonight it's snowing but somehow, no clouds obscure the smattering of pale white stars that burn my eyes if I stare at them too long, or the half moon that glows almost too brightly.

It makes me, I admit, remember you- a little too much and I feel strangely hurt. I'm not used to understanding, or really even feeling pain. The worst that happens is a papercut of a goldfish dying, and it's not like I'm just...going to get attached to a goldfish or anything...except for Frecky, but he was -special.-

The silence is insane. I miss hearing a voice to shatter it.

I suppose I have a lot of time to think on that.

I stand from the grassy hill and turn to leave.