Dear someone whom-I-Have-Followed-On-Twitter,
I know this may sound crazy and unfortunately it really is but, I think I'm in love with your rubbish and unrated tweets.
It was Tuesday at 11:52 pm when we first met on a chatroom. We talked about really random stuffs. When I told you that I hadn't been on cinema for 3 years, you looked shocked. Then you asked me what was I doing during those years. I answered, "watching animes, having a life. Hahaha". After that, we didn't talk about cinema stuffs but we talked about another random stuffs.
Oh, I loved this guy.
What? Wasn't it good, when you had a very entertaining conversation at night with a totally random guy you haven't known before and the conversation wasn't bad at all, and the guy really has a GOOD sense of humor? And I've always thought that, "There is nothing more erotic than a good conversation." And I found it in you.
You also begged me to listen to Nicki Minaj's song called Stupid Hoe. You said that the song isn't a song. It's a torture device. I didn't listen to the song on the day you begged me to. I just listened to it on my birthday a week ago. Oh, don't ask me how was the video and the music. It was really a torture device.
The clock was pointed on 01:00 am (I forgot the exactly minutes it was). You said that you were sleepy and you wanted to go to sleep. I said, yeah, take care. I thought you would end the chat right away but you didn't. You asked me if I have a Twitter or no. I said, yeah, I have one. Then you asked my username so you could follow me. I gave you my username. You followed me. And I followed you back. But the conversation wasn't really end. We talked again. This is such a shame because I forgot what were we talking and I felt like, damn, you! How could you forget such a great conversation like that? We kept talking. We kept typing and we kept laughing. No, I kept laughing. I didn't know if my cheesy jokes could make you laugh or didn't. And we were there at the point when you said, "For God's sake, stop typing. I want to go to bed right now!" I smiled. And giggled. You were so funny. So I said okay, take care--and our conversation that night was really end.
***
On the day after, I checked your timeline. I saw your tweets seriously and I found my self laughed. Your tweets were incredibly funny and cool in a classy way. Your tweets were so frank--also perv--but I did enjoy every words of them. I scrolled your timeline even until your first tweet. What a good stalker. Even until now, I always check your timeline whenever I signed my Twitter on.
Dear someone whom-I-Have-Followed-On-Twitter,
No, I won't say that I love you because I don't think I do.
You are a good person, I know, because your tweets show your personality clearly.
No, I won't say that I love you because I mean, "who are you? Do I know you better?"
No, I won't say that I love you because your tweets--which have made me feel that way.
It's all about your tweets. And you, as a guy who created the tweets, I think you are involved onto this most-bizarre-so-called-love-story-but-unfortunately-it-isn't. You created the tweets, and I found myself amazed by reading your tweets, so is it appertained?
Dear someone whom-I-Have-Followed-On-Twitter,
Do you know reasons why I always check your timeline everyday?
First, it's because I'm craving for your tweets. And I could be so cranky when you haven't updated your tweets for a couple of days.
Second, it's because I hope, one day, my name is written on your rubbish and unrated tweets. And I wonder what kind of tweets would be posted if my name was written on them.
Sincerely,
Someone who has followed you on Twitter 51 days ago.
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