piedritas de colores

no se a qué viene el título. será que son semejantes (a la distancia) a... ilusiones (¿?)

I can't stop thinking about it.
What the hell went wrong with me last night?
I just couldn't stop. I wanted to talk to him all the time. And.. it's pretty awkward
I don't wanna this. I don't wanna.
I don't.
Cause then is me who ends fucked up, I refuse.

NOTICE what I found out: Late at night, first hours of the next day(?), I can only tell the truth, I mean sincerely. I can tell what I really think or feel. Pretty awesome what you can find out.

note: (not a lot right now makes sense to me).