i am always attracted to things that will destroy me in the end. sometimes it will not be obvious in the beginning. an act as innocent as picking a poem in a book of poetry. a poem that seems so distant, so far from where i am reading it, so different from the kind of life i am living. but then on a day when everything seems to fall apart, all the things that made me like the poem begin to fall into place. it is like the exact second before a glass hits the floor and shatters. one imaginary second where maybe finally life makes total sense. some people would risk anything to find out whether that one singular second exists. and if it doesn’t, well… it wouldn’t be the first time things shatter into tiny little shards.
Tag: floor
Log #24
again, i was still a senior in my high school. i walked out of the classroom and found the corridor filled with freshmen cutting up newspapers for an assignment. the floor was almost covered with clippings so i tiptoed to avoid stepping on them. but there was this group of stuck-up girls who deliberately let their clippings cover the entire floor of their work area that i had to ask one of them to move the pieces away. she made an irritating remark as she did it. i stormed down the stairs and found my bag lying at the bottom. i had no doubt that it was the girl’s doing. raged, i looked for my friends. when i found them, one of my girls told me she just received a text saying that our villain junior was pregnant.