and the last person who saw her teary eyes was a complete stranger
a complete stranger
who knows nothing about her, just another stranger
nothing about the reason why, how come, those big brown eyes were sparkling.
He wanted to ask her something, out of courtesy... curiosity... ?
So he looked into her eyes, with all courage, breathed in
..............................................
I sink into my own imaginary world, the very one that was carved out of the resentment of youth, made-believe tales, freedom and nobility of soul... in another word, madness.
My mp3 player keeps playing the same rock ballad: Thunder, I can't bear to continue hearing Heaven anymore. The violin in the background is just too painful, tearing every bits and pieces that is left unwounded in my heart. Why do I feel this way? I think - I rarely think deep recently - just to make sure I can keep myself sane. back to the point, I think that I am an island. The more he reaches out for me for the comfort of another wounded soul, the more I turn sharp and rude and sarcastic. Must I be this way? I don't think I have to. Just that it is for safety precaution.
I don't want you to sink into me, to intrude my privacy, so I shove "him", the universal address to all the possible attempt, away for he is just nameless being in my alternative reality. Like a land, a castle, a safety nest I hide myself away sometime, for little, or much fantasy. If I don't write out my thoughts, my fictions, if later on in the further road of life I am walking, I cannot become a writer, a novelist; I think I will become a very good liar, I mean, a story teller. Is there such thing? Who knows?
Back to the point, about that land where I feel safe, it is surrounded by a forest. I screamed out in despair: "Don't enter, or else you'll die"
What can I do? In the moment of desperation, he steps in, and stares at me: "What now?" And stabbed I did, wounded him I did, hurt is such a mild word I shall not excuse my crime, I admit them all. One of my female friend heard me over the phone. Thoughtfully she said: "He has a heart too, if you forget" I smiled wearily, I am not that dump, not that stupid, to punch a rock and hurt myself. I am aware of his weakness, his soft side... just to make sure I aim and push him away.
it's for your good
and my sanity
Those who stick around learn a new language: my native tongue. It is my actions that replace my words, filled the deafening silence around me.
1. Putting on my earphone = I really need space/ zone out
2. Glaring = ok, please stop
3. Watery eyes = let me be
4. No response = don't try to press, I am not deaf,I just don't want to talk about it
it's ok, you can be my friend, to care a little and ask not too much about me.
it's ok, you can consider me a best friend even, I will listen, to whatever you say, I care. Just that I don't want to be cared for and I cannot return that purity of soul you pour out. I want not to share the other half, tell my story. What for? I'm leaving, isn't it harder for you? I don't want to start something I have to end
it's ok, perfectly fine you can treat me as a non-gender companion.
but it is NOT ok if you love me, desire to possess me.
'cuz if you love me, you have to love all of my madness, scars and open wounds, misery, erratically obnoxious nature, my over sensitive soul and overwhelming expectation...
...........................................................
And for that, she stares back at him, not in a rude way, just strange, the kind that does not mean to offend you but just to examine your purpose of looking at her. Oh well, what to say, what to expect, she is a "STRANGE-R" from the start.
So he looked away, bad attempt, he mumbled
and she smiled, wearily in triumph, this is bliss, whispered the lonely girl whose loneliness is the result of her inexplicable choice. She sinked in again, drifted to another land with her mp3 still playing the same song like her midnight prayer to those nightmares she faces too often recently.
Thunder, this is not gonna be the soundtrack of her life. She has to snap out! But when and how? When her unconscious mind keeps returning to the same person of the past, "you left me", whispered her, in exhaustion, "why do you keep coming back to me, in my most vulnerable moment?"...
let me be
