Constult: to act stupidly or foolish together.
"You know they say the line between love and hate is thin I think I realized that a while ago when I fell for you" she confessed.
"What a horrible way to admit your feelings, I guess I love you too" he...
Memories come back in the most unexpected ways, and they show something you've either longed to forget or wish to remember.
They could be bad or good.
And memories like that make me remember why I am the way I am and how I pushed myself to the edge and am now on the way to doing it all over again.
If I wanted to change, I would have to change the way my mind works, and that means that instead of resurfacing and reflecting on old moments and things that won't make me happier, I would have to move on.
But what does it mean to move on when you don't know what you're moving on from?
According to the Oxford dictionary, it means to do something new or make progress.
Like a flame that dies out.
Do you relight the candle, or do you let it burn out only to be replaced by another? How about this?
How about this... forget the stupid candle, throw it back where it belongs, and turn on the light.
Leave the past where it belongs; I'd say that's incorrect.
Change people's perception of the past and make a new present because who are we if not humans who depend on others and change like a cool breeze?
. . . . . . . .
It was early, a crisp Saturday morning. My hands held onto the thick and long strips of wood to start the frame work of a new building. Joker was across from me, holding onto the ends.
Ever since I had my fit and begged for my old job back, I have made sure to appreciate the opportunity that joker has given me, meaning that even if I wasn't much for lunging things around, I'd better become adjusted to it if I wanted a way out.
It was pathetic the whole show I put on, but when filled with emotions, there's not much you can really do about it except get over it or forget it like Wooin and Joker did because it really didn't mean much.
At first, it was a little odd working around only men, middle-aged ones at that, but soon they and I became adjusted to me as a woman helping them out, although joker has become an extent adversary in that, so I have him to thank for a lot of things.
After putting the pile of framing wood back with the others, I adjusted my cap, making sure the shade covered me since I was already sweating a mountain.
"It gets easier."
Jokers voice made me turn around to face him; his blue hair was doused with sweat, and his hands were adjusting the straps on his gloves so they were tighter.
"Does it?" I asked, and he closed his eyes as if silently thinking about the answer and the best possible explanation.
And I didn't mind it because that's how Joker is: a silent and withdrawn man who takes everything seriously and floats away like a cloud, easygoing and free.
Everything I wish I could be.
Free,
With no thoughts or regrets holding me down with a thick chain,.
Free, where I could hear the water underneath my feet ripple and sway until it led to an ocean, not a pond.
Free, where I could feel every sensation in my body and soul and say that I feel alive, that I feel a rush in my bones.
I felt it once, and now I want to feel it over and over, pushing and pulling my body and fizzling away my mind.
I wanted to feel those sparkles of life pass through me like a bolt of lightning.
"No," he finally said, and we both cracked a little smile before lunging over to grab another set of framing wood and place them back where they go.
I didn't mind the strain on my body from carrying large weights or even the fact I was doing a lot of physical tasks; if I'm being honest, I actually like doing honest dirty work rather than actual dirty work or studying.
I liked the way it made me feel independent and like whatever rock I had in my stomach was removed.
Fulfilling, that's the word. I felt like a part of my life was fulfilled—a new price of the puzzle added to the board.
