Sunday, September 25, 2016

all warriors knows memento mori, but i didn't get the memo



did i mention to you, i have a habit where i like to write on tissue paper? well, this is one of them. i wrote this a while ago when i was still in between the line of being alive and dying. i had this constant nightmare where when i wake up, it would just be darkness. as time went by, i gave in, accepting fate for what might happen.

all people has their future, of course, including me. difference is, mine is already written. i envy those people who has full powers of what they have. now, moving on. i have been telling you i have roamed in this purgatory for quite awhile, no? i lived a long life, but, alas, in a short time. if one day, if  i am here, beside you and the next day i'm nowhere to be found. don't panic, its as simple as i went home first before any of you did.

Monday, September 19, 2016

joy ride sometimes isn't so joyful when it's past 2 in the morning

rain was pouring, even so, he rolled down his window half-way so his cigarette's smoke can find it's way out from his old car. it was night time, or was it dusk, he can't really tell since there is no digital clock in his rusty car and just his luck, he wasn't wearing his watch that day. it was only him, his pack of cigarette and his phone that he didn't bother to touch. he doesn't have any destination to begin with. he doesn't mind, since driving was one of his favourite thing to do. he couldn't even remember what he was doing. he was lost in his own thought thanks to the red light that takes forever to turn green.

"flowers! flowers, sir?" asked a young lad, holding a bouquet of flowers.

a voice startled him, pulling him back to reality. the lad was wearing raincoat. he noticed that the flowers weren't fresh, both indicated that the lad was here for quite awhile and there wasn't much people bought his flower today.

"flowers, huh? it has been awhile since i actually bought one, funny, the last time i bought it was from around here too." he said to himself.

he smiled and raised his hand, a gesture that he's declining the young lad's offer for the flower. the lad smiled and went away along with his flowers. as the young lad proceed to another car behind him, he was once again, drown in his thoughts. this time, he was remembering something. something about flowers had something to do with the past; the flower, was a token from the past.

looking at the flower, it made flashes of images. images that he didn't want to remember just barge in without knocking. at first, it was just a silhouette, then, it formed to a girl's silhouette, then it moves, with a really familiar gesture, the silhouette was dancing inside his head. it was like, it has its own soul inside his head. as the image went vivid, it suddenly faded due to the honking from the car behind. he let a small sigh of relief.

the light was green.

he continued to wander aimlessly, until he stopped in the middle of a fly-over, it was pretty empty since it was night time. he climbed his rooftop car to sit and proceed to light his cigarette once more. this time, he realised he had been smoking a little bit too much. he doesn't know whether he's addicted to smoking, the cold weather, or he was just filling his empty insides. remind him to apologise to the road cause he littered a little bit too much. noticing his thought is consuming him, he shrugged in disdain still not in the mood for any company - even if, it was from his own thought. his eyes were watery, his heart beats from largo to prestissimo.

his phone was buzzing.

why is it buzzing at this ungodly hour?

distraught, he began to reach his right pocket.

he always put his phone on his left pocket, he mainly uses his left hand for almost everything; he's right handed and not ambidextrous, besides, he cannot write with his left hand, he doesn't know either how that happened. it didn't matter for him. maybe, it's his way so he won't bother to even touch his phone. since, its the last thing on the earth that he wants to see. but in the end, his way did not avail.

"PACK YOUR STUFF, DIMWIT

it was his reminder, he has a unique way of reminding himself. the caps-lock was on for a reason there.

he sighed, quickly he locked his phone. he put his phone beside him this time, not inside his pocket. he felt that there was a severe pain from his chest. it was not the kind of pain that his body is failing on him - nor it was because he smoked to much. he was lonely. he was in dire need to see the girl in his head, for the last time. he was heart-broken

he picked up his phone.

opening it.

locking it again.

and opening it again.

he decided not to lock his phone this time. he was looking at his phone whilst he began opening his gallery of photos; reluctantly. he closed the gallery and continues to open his messenger. he scrolled and scrolled till he found a name. a name that made his heart beat. but also a name who beats his heart. should he? should he be doing this? he was staring a little bit too long, all that left of his cigarette was its butt.

he couldn't take it. he dissolved and became one with the rain. the streets were quite as ever, was darker than ever. but his head? it was chaos. he wanted to shout, but his head was louder. his blood pressure was rushing in barry allen speed. then his finger slowly began to dance on top of his phone with lots of clicking sounds were made. a swoosh came from his phone, and an echoed click indicating he locked his phone again.

he reached out to his pack of cigarette and light it up again.

he didn't know what he's doing, he never know about anything.

one thing he knows, he loved the colour green.

and he thought to himself, this is where everything is supposed to become greener.