o h d e a r
i kept thinking and thinking, how can people be so wise and bold? have they seen how their words are sprawled across the air like fine pieces of crystal glass?
i wanted to be wise, that's what i decided.
but today, i realised- only a fool can decide to be what he wants, and a wise man to decide he is a fool.
but the universal truth is, we all want to be wise and believed upon. just like shakespeare, or for this generation, john green and rainbow rowell.
no matter how hard you fleet the thought away, you want to be wise and knowledgeable. you want your words to leave a mark on someone's soul.
just as how someone left a mark on yours.
"say, avery. let me tell you a tale."
"go and shoot it on me, gab."
"there was a wise man, and a group of people. he cracked a joke and everyone laughed, then he said the same joke, and a few chuckled. lastly, he said it again, this time- no one laughed."
"it's silly for him to think that they'd laugh for the third time on the same joke, that wise man."
"if you can't laugh on a repeated joke, then why should you cry a million for repeated reasons?"
my boy, you are my wise.
in the end, the universal truth about being wise was that, it all depends on how others accept your words.
it's not your decision to be wise or foolish, if it is then let it be- you'll develop the person who you really are, you'll see.
if you say words that are truly from you and not from the worldly things, then you are wise.
wise enough to know that wise could depend on your thoughts, and how you accept it.
they say people do that to leave a mark on this world when they decease.
maybe that's a reason, or maybe someone wants at least, somebody, to know something they've been overlooking for a thousand times.
someone wants somebody to realise something.
and my love, since you are a wise young boy, you made me realise that maybe silence isn't being alone and trapped with thoughts, that maybe silence was another refuge.
oh dear, my list of hates have grown to the smallest point of itself, leaving me bombarded with the things i 'love'.
be wise, my precious.
Love,
The secretly foolish girl.
YOU ARE READING
Oh dear
Şiir"maybe it was you and i, not we and us." in which she falls inlove, and she gets tricked by the illusions and thoughts of it. one sick delusional story, without true love.
