You don't understand me?
0455hrs
Can you see that I'm in pain?
0535hrs
I've been sitting here, waiting patiently for it to come. I told myself I wouldn't sleep if it didn't. The skies have been groaning since 9pm yesterday, before we stepped into the cinema. When we stepped out 2 hrs later, I noticed that the roads were dry. Weird, I thought, and looked up questioningly. What are you waiting for?
Then, as I sat here, emotions alternating between the pseudo-depressive kind and downright-mad kind, I felt, rather than saw, the silent lightning from this side of the curtain. I turned towards my window and looked at the prints on the curtains, but what I really saw was the tree outside my window bent forward by the wind. Then, like applause, I heard the pitter-patter of the rain beating down on my windows. I pulled back the curtains and watched a single raindrop trail down the pane. Wait. Maybe that was actually a tear rolling down the cheek of my image, reflected back to me.
I opened the window and stretched out a palm, the raindrops anointing my wounds like balm. I took a deep breath, taking in the wonderful, mysterious smell of rain, and feel it soothing my soul. I closed my eyes...
And see the words printed behind my eyelids. And hear the accusations resonating in my brain. Ironically, I opened my eyes to shut them out, and they stung.
It didn't help at all today. Then what else will?
0645hrs
Morning is breaking. Everytime I look out, the skies turn a lighter shade of blue. Who named the color Sky Blue? Didn't they know that the sky is All-Hues-of-Blue? A while ago, my mother started knocking incessantly at my door. My lamp is on, but I have been quiet. I refused to answer, wishing her away. Throughout the night she's been at my door, trying to talk to me, but the last thing I want now is to hear her nagging, or worse still, her offering of help.
What do you want? I finally said the words I've come to detest.
Open the door now, she demanded.
I sat at the table, glassy-eyed but wide-awake and replied, Go away. I'm sleeping.
I know you are not.
She's my mother after all. I went back to ignoring her, and blocked out her voice and the light knocks on the door. Blue skies turned grey by the clouds. It hasn't stopped raining. Both inside and out.
0800hrs
It's eight. My parents would have left for work. I switched off my lamp. Its loyalty is useless to me now. The traffic outside is raging, and so is the one inside. In an hour's time, on a normal day, I would be waking up for another work day. I look around my bedroom and see with fresh eyes what a dump it has become. Shopping bags, work bags, luggages, books, magazines, clothes... all sharing my leg space.
What have you created? What have I become?
I've asked for the morning off, to shake off the night that was never to be. I glanced at the time again. Should I or should I not? I looked out of the window for answers and found that it's still raining outside.
Thank you for keeping me company. I'll let you decide.
Labels: Dear Diary, Insanity, Insight, Perversion
smudgi3 @ 8:15:00 am | Permalink | |
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