The Waiting Game

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This waiting room holds the biggest number of people. All waits in nervousness, ready to be called. It’s a raffle by the way. So we don’t know whose turn will be next.

The staff pulls one number every 5 minutes and it’s been a while since we’ve been here. I don’t know about the guy at the back, he seems furious and may explode anytime. Some people start to cry. The couple by the window cries the hardest and looks like they run out of the air.

Will that happen to us? Sooner or later? This tiredness, the anxiousness, and the sadness. All pileup, a mixture of an uncomfortable feeling.

Of waiting for the hope to come.

 

(1/7 of )

These Words

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The power of internet had brought me to read Neil Gaiman’s essays long before I read one of his books. In an essay called All Books Have Genders, Gaiman wrote an interesting take on how to see and perceive a story. I wonder if my writings have one.

I wrote a lot of fictional stories before, in short passages, or a pretty much longer one. But do they even have common threads, other than written by the same person?

They rarely take a female’s perspective. They talk romance in a non-romantic way. Do they even have feelings?

Do I even have feelings?

Read more of these here.

Here It Comes

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For the first time in my life,
I don’t have anything written on my to-do list.

Because I realized,
I don’t really know what would happen tomorrow.

More than any time,
this is highlighting that I really cannot have control of anything.

Sometimes my heart races,
really scared about what comes next.

Sometimes I panic,
because I cannot promise anything.

It seems that I missed out a lot of things,
but this is me trying hard not to miss something else.

I need time to process it and grasp it bit by bit,
but time won’t wait for me.

And here I am,
trying to breath deeper.

Calming myself,
by songs I cannot hear.

Beating down by the sound of the racing heart.

Stranger by Distance

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Your current addiction and the drama.
You cannot stop obsessed about it.
And there’s a whole song about falling in love with a total stranger.

I don’t think I can understand that feeling.

But there you are, telling me stories about friends you’ve never met before.
Calling them by nicknames.
Telling daily jokes and congratulating them on milestone moments.
On text.
Via cable.

I don’t think I can understand that feeling.

I Don’t Want You to Get The Wrong Idea

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I ordered the cheapest coffee on the menu.
Although I don’t drink coffee and don’t know what to expect.
I don’t understand the temperature degree nor thinking the leaves on the cup look nice.
I just thought I need to order something to avoid the awkwardness and nothingness in the air.
You look nice, with the ponytail and the mustard sweater.
Someone must be pulling you off from a fashion magazine.
Although I don’t read that either.

I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.
Although I will pay for your overpriced apple pie and whatever latte you choose before.

I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.
You have that look since we got here and my heart, kind of, flutters.

I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.
But I need to empty this cup hurriedly.
I need to get your friend’s number and I’m afraid that I’m going to fall for you the more seconds I sit in front of you.
Intriguingly looking at your freckles and how you bite your nails.

I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.
Although you do look so nice today.
Intriguingly attractive.
Curiously interesting.

That’s it, I really need to go now.