The flickers and the sad guitar.

Today, I don’t think I remember anything more than the nothingness in the air

 

(5/7 of #7daysofblackandwhite)

I’ve never seen so much anger before.

Nor experiencing it for myself.

Something that is ready to explode and burn.

The guilt and confusedness.

The burden and the inability to stand up.

 

(4/7 of #7daysofblackandwhite)

I’ve seen them a few times already.

The twinkling eyes and the tired minds.

Colliding into sparks.

Burns brighter every time.

But fading when the curtain closed.

I see them everywhere now.

It’s not considered escaping.

They just want to burn brighter.

In ways they know best.

 

(3/7 of #7daysofblackandwhite)

It might be far, but not too far.

This ticket will keep you moving.

One way or another.

I know it’s hard to leave all you have.

But you can come back here someday.

When the bay it’s clear and everything is back to how it supposed to be.

You’ll understand that I cannot define someday by time unit.

But the train is here and you need to go.

Oh, you’ll understand why.

It’s not me who wants you to leave.

I can just say a few things

Ask as many things as you can to the other people you’ll meet.

Eat their signature food.

Learn their languages.

Someday, you’ll understand why this station doesn’t move and you’re the one that moves.

 

(2/7 of #7daysofblackandwhite)

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 #7daysofblackandwhite)