As the promos approach, I find myself drawing back. Into the shell where I can hide, peeking out at the world around me occasionally. Into a world of solitude, where people don't talk to me, and I don't talk to people. It's not like I have anything meaningful to say anyway. Things are probably better this way. If they saw what's in my mind, they would be afraid.
Trusting people has yet to do me any good, why start now? As long as I have what I need, I'm okay. Sure, being left out does have its effects, but quite frankly none of that really matters. Friends come and go, but the only thing in life that stays constant is yourself.
---
Living alone does have its merits. Life does seem a whole lot more relaxed. No parents or siblings to nag, hog anything I might want to use, or get in way. Perhaps solitude is the best way to go.
Well, once I have an income anyway.
---
Even with something new in his life, there was nothing he could do to avoid the old pair of shoes. THAT old pair of shoes. Everyday he would walk past, and find himself staring at them. They would stare back, and he would turn away. The memories were too painful.
There was nothing he could do to avoid her in school. Everyday he would pass her one way or another, and somehow, his gaze would be drawn unwillingly. She would turn back and look, but by then he would have already have stolen his look and tore his head away. Even though they had buried the hatchet, or claimed to do so, one couldn't muster up the will to talk to another.
All because he had waited too long, and done all the wrong things.
He remembered back when nothing seemed to really matter, when he could skip classes without fear of weird teachers breathing down his neck, when his friends seemed to be a transient stage in life, when he could do things without fear of backlash, knowing it would, at most, turn into idle gossip. When playtime was everytime. Back when they could have a normal conversation. Back when he could have gone out with her, turned back ,and see his friends cheering him on. Back when he did not have to worry about scandals. When freedom was the covert agenda of his life. When he could do what he wanted. When he wasn't alone.
How he missed those wonderful days.
Trusting people has yet to do me any good, why start now? As long as I have what I need, I'm okay. Sure, being left out does have its effects, but quite frankly none of that really matters. Friends come and go, but the only thing in life that stays constant is yourself.
---
Living alone does have its merits. Life does seem a whole lot more relaxed. No parents or siblings to nag, hog anything I might want to use, or get in way. Perhaps solitude is the best way to go.
Well, once I have an income anyway.
---
Even with something new in his life, there was nothing he could do to avoid the old pair of shoes. THAT old pair of shoes. Everyday he would walk past, and find himself staring at them. They would stare back, and he would turn away. The memories were too painful.
There was nothing he could do to avoid her in school. Everyday he would pass her one way or another, and somehow, his gaze would be drawn unwillingly. She would turn back and look, but by then he would have already have stolen his look and tore his head away. Even though they had buried the hatchet, or claimed to do so, one couldn't muster up the will to talk to another.
All because he had waited too long, and done all the wrong things.
He remembered back when nothing seemed to really matter, when he could skip classes without fear of weird teachers breathing down his neck, when his friends seemed to be a transient stage in life, when he could do things without fear of backlash, knowing it would, at most, turn into idle gossip. When playtime was everytime. Back when they could have a normal conversation. Back when he could have gone out with her, turned back ,and see his friends cheering him on. Back when he did not have to worry about scandals. When freedom was the covert agenda of his life. When he could do what he wanted. When he wasn't alone.
How he missed those wonderful days.
2 Comments:
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