I still remember this phrase so well... I can hear it in my mind all the time it scares me - Like a distant echo that resounds in my head like a sonorous bell... Every day and every waking moment as I continue to ignore the voices and throw the old things away in order to usher in the new it still hurts a lot. It was what you said that time:
"It is the straws that broke the camel's back..."
How true indeed. No matter how many bitter tears - filled with regret - I shed like a cascading fountain will never revive the dead. This is no drama... only delusion. But how does one deal with that? How does one hang on so tightly to a rope that slowly breaks off fiber by fiber... Until in the end even when you are in tears and in sweat and left with a bleeding heart... Someone just takes a knife and cut off that single thin thread connecting the two... and I fell... ... Fell and fell~
For a time I was lost like a child in a bustling city... I wanted nothing more than to find a place where I could seek shelter and refuge from the rain outside. Even though nowadays... it probably rains less often above my head... I can't help thinking and recalling the images that play in my mind like a film without sound.
To re-enact the scenes that has no colour and to see those mouths move but no voices come out. I wake up in the middle of the night multiple times to bizarre dreams of the people around me. I'll blame it on indigestion... but then again... I didn't even eat anything at all~ Too much on my mind I guess... but really really...
Every night when I go to bed... I ask myself why I am suffering so much for? What I am trying to become? But I guess most importantly...
Why you had to take that knife and cut off that last thread... that even now as I am falling I still hold onto even though it is non-existent... and a bleeding wound that has yet to clot~
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