Alright, it's late. Hence, the title. As usual, I am going to whine and kick at this blog.
I stood by the cliff with silent winds and distant waves under the deep blue night.
The sound of the strings plucked by you sent tremors in my heart.
I remembered seeing a girl with a school dress standing by a ditch. She held a tupperware in one hand and a bread in another hand. She was nibbling her bread cautiously, as if one wrong bite might crush the bread into dust.
Then, pitter patter, a boy ran passed her. As he stomped his feet when he ran, he splashed a considerable amount of muddy water onto the girl's clean dress. The girl didn't yell or scream. She stared down at her diry dress and patiently finished her bread.
Then, she walked to a room to ask for extra dress.
This scene repeated many times almost everyday. Her dress was dirtied every day and she still stood at that site, nibbling on her bread.
No, there was nothing psychotic about her. She told me:
'People makes mistakes by creating fun out of it, some create fun by making mistakes. If I walk away from there, I can't see the boy having fun looking at my dress. And I can't feel how tough life is without making yourself feel tough.'
Pillow words from me: Don't get too close.
Detail words? Wait for the next entry