Nothing is there.
Do I want something? If so, what is it?
無理無理無理無理。
It's all in the past, but I never forgot the 20 cents I threw into the wishing well when we were kids. Everytime I see him, I hear the sincerity of my 12-year-old self.
But, nothing WAS there either. Although I never bothered asking. I've always asked, and I've always gotten the answers, but now, this gnaws at the perfectionist: I don't know, I didn't know.
If we never really grow up, then I'll never be able to forget this feeling, which over the years, dissipated into the growing intricacies of adult life.
What happened after the tender age of 12? It's all a blank. I suppose we went our separate ways, somehow, but occasionally waved to each other or met up in groups. Oddly enough, we're all still on the same boat, wadding through time.
Once I step back in line, I will put the past behind me again. But for now, when the past is here to drink with me, I'll savour its bitterness with a numb tongue. Did I bite my tongue all this while?
This reeks of the impossible, and the absurd.
No comments:
Post a Comment