Dear Geeky, you're such a bastard

I had a dream.

You were there.

We're in your city, your place, in a continent far, far away from our homecountry.

Yet, somehow we took a cab from your place to my place.

No, the cab driver didn't mind.

No, he didn't even look at us with demeaning look.

In fact, he never popped his head out of the window.

So much for a dream logic.

We had a talk. You and I. Which started way before we took a cab.

About your job, about my job, about your plan, about my plan, about your stuffs, about my stuffs, about your music, about my dance.

About your brother, about my father, about you, about me.

About us.

By then, we were already in the cab. Talking about us. US. You and I.

You finished talking, and started kissing my thumb.

"You have a girlfriend", I thought you were about to stop
"Yeah, she's pretty, but I'm just a normal guy", then you continued, kissing, sucking, playing with my hand.

Even in my dream you're such a bastard.

So, I slapped you, pushed you to the corner of the seat, and left the cab.

I cried afterwards, in dream and after I woke up,

for having my dignity, my faith towards myself , and my consciousness, restored.

I hope this is the end.