Thursday, May 31, 2012

Voices

She laughed at the thoughts of confused dilemma.  What was it that make you so... restless, and annoying?  She shuddered.  Are you agreeing?  Her heart tickled.  She couldn't be happier... like breaking out from the prison.  She smiled.

Three years.  And everything has changed, in just three years.  She heaved a sigh.  Couldn't remember the last time I... smiled.  The hard reality that this world had had so much toil on her.  But everyone did so well... they worked ten times harder.  She felt like a loser, couldn't keep pace, or perhaps, didn't even bother to keep pace... walking all alone neglected by the world.  

What's wrong with you?!  She couldn't find fit.  Could she be happier alone?

As long as no one noticed, she would like to save herself from the shame.  But isn't everyone living like that?  She wondered.  You're a year older, you live independently, you get your own grocers, and you do your own shopping.  She was still uncomfortable with the word, alone.  I sure enjoy it.

She walked over to the displayed models.  We could own a home like that.  She had it all pictured out, an ideal living house, parents free, people free.  At least, she could run her own errands in a neat house.  She sighed again.  Mum would be the least happiest person... Yes, she probably wouldn't agree.  But she kept looking, that's how she has to learn to let go.  It's funny how she was standing there all by herself when someone her age would have someone else... tagged along.  Ooh, look at that young ones over your shoulders; that do normal.

When you're 17, everyone says you're still too young, you have to enjoy.  The words go on until you're 27, and everyone expects you to get hitched.  Everything she did, even for that one brink moment she was looking at her phone, was linked to this somehow nonexistent mysterious guy.  By the age of 30, she would look like a desperado even while punching that old cellphone of hers.  How would a 27-year-old feel?

At 27, she felt old.  She didn't feel she was any prettier at all.  She wanted to be happy.  She really does. 

Friday, May 18, 2012

Yearning To Be

Her name popped out from the board.  The blurred sight was insignificantly understood.  Yet, enough.  How could she have missed the sight of it?  The watch read 11.30 a.m.  She was already forty minutes late.  Her heart raced.  "Could there be a kind soul waiting patiently on the other side?"  She fumbled through the papers.  "... Just for a mere..." she glanced at the ticking clock, "FORTY-ONE MINUTES?!"  Disbelief, her heart recited prayers.  Her feet ran her off to chasing time.

From afar, the silhouette of monkeys jumping around the four-square did not amuse her at all.  Adrenaline pumped through her veins.  AH!  The disturbances they would have caused.  Her brain was reasoning with all kinds of theories.  Dirty little secrets were full of loopholes.  "Oh, look!  Someone's checking the monkeys."  There were mixed feelings she was confused over.  

She explained all she could upon reaching the already calmed monkeys.  Whose ears could have a heart to empathize?  Her pleas fell on deaf ears.  Her excuses were unacceptable even for herself.  She walked away...
So that was how it should be for bad day like hers.  An ill appetite, a hopeless heart and the many unexplained events that would have been told after. 

Who could have felt the same way, ... when everyone else was perfect.