When the room is silent, cold, and dark. That's when I could hear my voice so clearly. That's when I could use my senses and feel the burning flame within me. That's when I could finally see the things I've been seeking lately.
When far from the noise of the city. When free from the toxic world of social media. I found myself, pacing and confused by the reality.
She just wanted a piece of paper and a pen to write down her thoughts. She just wanted to draw the lines that she might cross. She just wanted to paint the sunsets and never wish to say adios. She wanted all that but they gave her a stone instead of paper. They told her to draw her boundaries instead of shapes and figures. She wanted the color of the rainbow but they told her to paint in black and white. But despite the flaws, her passion didn't fade but bloomed like a sunflower in the summer.
Blinking once and I snapped out of my thoughts. She was passionate about art and often wish to have someone to talk to. Glancing at my right, clean papers and pencils and paint and a phone - that was all she prayed for. I have paper and pen now, where's the passion to write down what happened? I have pencils and crayons now, where's the smile on my face everytime I finish a sketch even though it doesn't look exactly like the reference? I have paint and brushes now but can't even spend a time painting the dandelions. I have a phone now, where's the promise to learn how to connect with people? I'd like to tell myself that, "Oh I didn't realize that I now have the simple things I used to pray for. But now that I already have those, the excitement wasn't the same as before."
Blinking twice and a tear fell from my eye. The younger me will definitely be happy because we got those things finally. But it's a stab on the chest, knowing that the current me, don't really appreciate those things. What happened to those passions? What happened to those little accomplishments everytime I finish writing a story? What happened to the joy sketches and paintings would always owe me? It's a bit sad that I'm so caught up with reality. Did I change? Or the world gave me a whole new priority?
But I know, she was still with me. Do you feel the same way as me? Or perhaps I'm just a bit silly. I don't know why but I miss me.
Rain
YOU ARE READING
HER JOURNAL
SachbücherIt includes real life situations and events. A glimpse of HER thoughts. Contains poems, quotes and prose. A journal of a girl we'll just call Rain. Isn't it interesting to read someone's journal? She say's, "Sometimes, it's better to let a stranger...
