Un-rhymed lines and broken heart stories. A poem made over grammar mistakes. Every words between every colors.
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)
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.
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.
