Dinnertime

I'm sitting here at the UV cafeteria, waiting for my plate of cheap rice and a side of sweet and sour fish. To create the Illusion that this cafeteria is more crowded than it really is, the volume of the TVs have been cranked up until one can hear it from across the street. For months I've avoided this place thinking that it'd be full, but now I know, it's really just the TV.

Even so, with all these empty seats, the staff sure are having a hard time accommodating the very few of us who actually need to eat. I think 3 sad little stalls are open for business, but coincidentally all of us have decided to order from the same stall today; what are the odds!

Starving since lunchtime, it's anyone's guess that I'm not exactly in my best mood. I could make good use of this wait time by reading relevant research articles, or complete some pending tasks required of my part-time job, but why be so productive when I can come here to escape my responsibilities for a while longer?

You know, we're supposed to start a blog for one of our classes. A blog, eh? But of course, unlike this dump here, it has to be professional, and appealing to readers. As a woman of very little talent, and even lesser hobbies, that sort of thing is particularly difficult to set up.

A fake blog, targeted towards a fake audience... Now that sounds very much like this one already.

Ahem.

At any rate, I think I could fake my way through the semester by blogging about skincare and makeup. I've always wanted to know if I could potentially crawl into the beauty industry after graduation, do write ups on cosmetics, so I suppose now's my chance. I thought I could write about my time in Kyoto, but we need a video, a podcast, and lots of pictures, which I don't have enough of.

Ah, my fish, my fish is here!

Chasing Silhouettes

この目にバレたらあの人の姿は離れないようになる。

Since when did I begin chasing the heel of your shoes? The you who I have never breathed a word to, nor smiled at, has grown into a thorn that is piercing through the delicate film that separates desire from thought, expectation from reality. At the sight of you, I involuntarily become drawn in, and at a loss for words, can only from a safe distance let out a sigh then watch it turn into air. For a brief moment, my stare follows the traces of my breath, and I find myself wondering if you will also disappear before these eyes. I can't catch the vapours my eyes can see, but I could have held on to the hem of your shirt sleeves.

Yet, like watching my sighs, I silently watched you walk out the door. The heel of your shoes are moving further and further away, but my eyes haven't a voice that can tell you to stay. If in these deep brown eyes my longing was apparent, then I wish I had looked into your eyes.

I avoided them, I avoided you, just as you had avoided mine and avoided me. Grunts and perfunctory nods were the only indications that my existence was acknowledged. Did I do anything to offend you? But never mind now, because the seat that you had sat on has already grown cold.

And so I grabbed my coat and chased after the you who I can no longer see. The streets were cold, so was the glare of the moon. Pointing in neither the direction in which you've gone nor the way back to the warmth of laughing strangers, its pale glow then got swallowed by the passing clouds, and I was left there, not even with the company of my own shadow.

I crossed the bridge as I listened to the stream of water that flowed with time. Drops of rain began to fall, and together with the flowing river, they never turned back. I thought of getting onto a paper boat so I could sail to where you are, but I know, all I will be able to see is your straight back. Always three steps behind, I can never reach you.

To the you whose beauty is felt through the warmth emanating from your heart, please turn your head and notice the outline of my restless figure. Look at me too, even if all you can remember is a red cloak fluttering in the distance.