The bright yellow razor blade could be so endearing, so tempting, when the time was right. The gleam of it, touched by common white lamp, hanging on the ceiling, was calling her for the fifth time in this night. It was new, the blade. She just bought it from the local bookshop, another impulse-buying of useless stationary. She already had a pack of razor blade refills, safely kept in a white plastic box. But no, she thought when she saw the metal cutter. No, it was much easier when there was something to hold on to other than a sheet of tissue paper. At least she couldn’t hurt her finger–
–while hurting her hand, she continued in her thought, amusely.
Her hair was now cut short; shorter than it had ever been. If she was a forest, her trees were whittled down near its roots; very short, and it might need an amount of time to grew back. Birds now didn’t have houses, and cloudy rain could kiss the filthy soil easily, yet the frogs were thirsty because their pond was dry. Everything was a disaster. The forest’s crowd were never encountered a total destruction like this.
I think I already live in lies for too long. Or maybe it is actually acquired in real life? I think I was trained to pretend so much until I didn’t know what is my actual intention. It is easy to talk to someone and pretend that you are truly care about them, and ignore them later. I did that too much, until finally when someone about which I really care come around, I don’t know what to do to keep them. Someone in the back of my head repeatedly tells me to be aware; to be cautious to everything. It anxious me. What if this person -the one which I really care- leaves me like I did to everyone else? What if it’s something like a karma? And thanks to that, up until today I don’t have anyone who I actually consider as my best-best friend.
Last night I dreamed about you again, for the first time in this month. I don’t really know why you appeared in my dream again, since we have no actual interaction in these past months. Legend says that when you dreamed about someone, that someone is missing you. I hope it is true, then. I hope you miss me as much as I miss you. Oh, I feel so embarrassed when I typed that.
based on this post on tumblr
“Be happy, okay?” he said as he beamed ear to ear, totally oblivious to his surrounding. His eyes were fixated only to the boy opposite him, who wore an old black glasses, but he didn’t mind the slightest about that.
“What do you mean by that,” the opposite boy whispered. “We’ve lost our everything.”
“At least you still have me.”