gasoline | l.s

gasoline

nowadays

the world wasn't worthy of him.

it was with this thought that i moved on. it was by believing in this cheap philosophy that i began to ignore the pity others felt about me and i took pity on them for never knowing him as i knew did.

louis was spectacular at his own way, and the whirlwind of things that had happened to him was responsible for making him blind to the point of not seeing it in himself. other people turned him into a wrong copy of himself; into someone that kept silent in front of their own downfall.

i'd be the worst of the liars if i said that after him things stayed the same. because they didn't, not even me.

louis transformed his own destiny and, consequently, those of the people around around him. shortly after, his parents got divorced, and i heard a rumor that ex-ms. tomlinson went all the way back to her parents house. now mr. tomlinson, who cares?

mr. whitake acted a little kinder towards me until the end of the school year, even kitty started acting a little gentler. but, anyway, i could see in her eyes she still hated me.

now, sitting at the most hidden table in one of my favorite bars, i observe the people walking around the place. there are young people, old people and couples in love. they drink, laugh and talk about subjects that rise on bar tables.

for now, no one comes close my table, and i'm happy with that. this way i can travel back to the past, to the days i had him a touch away. on the back of my left hand there's a lonely and small star tattoo, it is blue, just like his eyeshadow he wore in the first day i saw him enter the detention room door.

it is funny how everything can suddenly turn upside down. it is weird how death can change people's life. it simply is so curious. the person is gone, stop existing, and nothing stops. everything keeps going. the time, the wind and the hollow. these things never stop, and, in the end, i know it will be the same about me.

i will die one day, and the world won't stop. just like it didn't stop for him.

in the end, louis gave me only one certainty.

we're part of a machine.

there's flaws in our codes.

we run on gasoline.

and when it runs out, it just ends.

there's no after. just now.

when you reach the finish line there's just the emptiness and nothing escapes from it.

not him.

not me.

not you.