Thoughts.

Paper Cut

I will have to write something all over again, mostly because my thoughts are overlapping each other. Today I sprung up, clutching a paper in my hand. My father had simply looked at me curiously and resumed watching his show. My father is an introvert, if I am to let anybody know. So am I, although you couldn't tell at that moment because I burst into my room muttering words. Useless words. I was criticizing a friend I used to know. It was all happening rather quickly.

My sister glanced up at me, as she only could, with her dull gaze and the and-why-is-this-surprising-you attitude. I fell silent again and looked at the time. It was too late for any nonsense. Too late for me to even think. So I returned to my notes and began correcting some English sentences a friend had sent me. You know, pretending everything is fine.

I'm a master at that, if anyone asks. I can even fool myself into thinking I don't give a damn about a person. That lasts until I fall asleep. Then the truth is unveiled and I wake up in the morning, paralyzed by feeling and bickering with my inner self, scolding my thoughts and emotions until they return to being inert. What a curious human being I am. Nobody would ever guess I had a heart. I can even go to being completely impassive when the situation is tense and sensitive. I just order my mind, and robot-mode switches on. But that's just a mask. I'm a softie nobody will ever uncover. I'm just used to life rotating a 360. That's the only constant I can rely on. Everything else is temporary. Like our feelings. I may trust a person but I can never trust what they feel. Ever. It's ridiculous what people have become. What's more ridiculous is how childish young people have become. Instead of growing up, they whine and complain more than a nine-year-old would, not knowing how to deal with a situation when the time calls for it.

So I took a deep breath and exhaled, staring at my notes. Other memories of school flooded back and I recalled the beginning. Somehow it seems too far away. Maybe today is a beginning too.

What I regret most is knowing this one person. She was interesting, mind you. Fascinating. Persuasive. The thing she did best was capture people's hearts and she did it with words. She would utter things that could imprint into one's memory forever. Her figure wasn't heavy in one's mind, but light, and when she walked, she walked with melancholy.

I used to talk quietly to her during late nights and she told me different stories of her days. She never talked about people though, except for a handful, and when she spoke, she spoke confidently and with grace. You'd think she was very gentle and that the silliest insult would make her cry. She used to criticize herself for not being able to cry easily. She said it was a sign that the heart was not soft enough.

I used to regret knowing her, but not for me. No. Rather for other people instead. She produced somewhat of this infatuation in some, and hatred in others.

These were my thoughts as I stared at these notes.

Someone called me but I missed it. My thoughts overlap one another too frequently. They call me clever.

I call it complicated.

Then I start to wonder all over again.