Eden Andrews, a girl with a troubling past for one purpose in life. That of moving away from the ghosts of his past.
Her life will change diametrically when Eden moves to Boston to take classes at her famous university. She will finally have the cha...
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—It should do it here.
I sit limply on a wet bench of the Boston Public Garden in order to observe these amateur singers trying to interpret one of my favorite songs: Don't Fear The Reaper and these pricks are doing a massacre . Can someone explain to me why, despite this vocal carnage, happy idiots start choreographies and pretend to be happy? Maybe they are. After all, they are not all like me: the guy full of bitterness. I will go on stage and show them what is a true singer who has enough in the guts to interpret this classic.
As for me, my every move is mechanical. I was born in a society that is blind. It is disillusioned by conventional beliefs. They are all fucking sheep that follow the pace. I'm not an anarchist, but I'm fed up with those peuple who need to act on what is good or bad in a society that is emotionally drained. They are unable to act and think according to their real needs. I feel lonely and disconnected from this world and it is for this very reason that I avoid intimacy and prefer to stay alone.
I thought that coming here to listen to "music" would help me squeeze out my thoughts. One person in particular: Eden Andrews.
It hurts me to admit it, but it has been invading my mind for a little while already. After the revelation she told me about her asshole father, I started to feel pity for her first. I will not hide it. But this pity has turned into a feeling that is impossible for me to explain. I'm trying. Oh yes, I try to avoid it, but I can't do it. I need to know what she's doing, where she is and what she's thinking. It is surely a fucking phase that will fade with time. This is what I persist in telling myself since this evening.
When I entered her room without her consent, the last time my initial plan was to piss her off at all costs. This is my daily hobby to fill the void that has invaded me in my ghostly and robotic life.
But I left, because if I had not decamped, I probably would have kissed her and she would not have liked, since it's Eden. So, I tried to scratch my almost indomitable desire to push her against her desk.
Andrews ... She's not conventional at all. I have trouble following her a few times. Nevertheless, I distinguish more quickly her flaws. She would like to break through my blackened heart. She still has some way to go.
Part of me also wants to help her fight her demons. It helps me to distract myself from my own afflictions and my ghosts that taunt me in a corner of my head. And then, I have the slightest hope that if she manages to neutralize her own, eventually, I too will get there one day?
Well, this phony plan, to come and settle down and listen to music to stop thinking about her is definitely obsolete.
So, I'll try to do another of my favorite things: read. I didn't confess to Eden and I mock her every time when I see her, a book in hand, stuck against a tree, but I love to read too. My predilections are mainly novels based on real stories.
For that, at a determined pace, I take the direction of the public library. I know exactly which room to enter to be quiet and not disturbed by anyone.
