words together

WORDS TOGETHER

By: christine zapanta andes

 

“when I’m alone I feel so much better

when I’m around you, I don’t feel together..”

 

As I heard this song accidentally during my momentous hobby of daydreaming, this song slowly strikes within me. As I listened to it again, I remembered my old self few years ago.

 

When I was 12, I have created the idea that conversation is just one of the worst ways of time consumption. It is but a bunch of gossips molded together for the sake of communication as a human need. This simply means I never talk too much to anybody unless required by a teacher or talks a matter of life and death.

It seems that everytime I talk, I lose the creativity of imagining; it wastes the image of ideas, because of words, spoken words as daggers into my ears.

 

Another few years passed, yet I never learned to understand human behavior. Their exaggeration to human emotions; shed a tear for a lost love, celebration for an accomplishment; an applause for a memorized speeches bothered me everyday that taught me to control mine. I calmly accept disappointments and lies brought by my own friends. I use to fake a smile and told them I already knew the truth though my heartbeat skips in my breathlessness for a broken trust. At night, my pillows help me to recall such foolishness that yeah it is in man’s nature to be good or bad.

 

I was getting too numb to be considered either. That night, I also realized that I was too open to people getting in and out of my life, that I slowly getting farther into my real self, whether who I was when I was 12 and who will I be tomorrow. I don’t know. I was being sought when they need to tell about the world and its cruel ways, because they knew I never talk. Indeed, I became a sponge absorbing dirts and memories. I was and I am. They talk to me, looked at me as if I was born to be a healer. I never talk or complain or pause for every moment that they need silence.

Well, at first glance it’s never that easy to be a wall in a roof deck where anyone can hide and cry on, or lean on just to be alone or punch of they’re mad, but as I continued to be silent about these imperfections which basically build my life purpose, I decided to write it down.

               

If this piece moved you to reflect on life or fooled you twice of misconception, so be it. I intentionally put these silent thoughts into words as this song falls to its end.

 

“together it doesn’t feel right at all

Together we built our walls,

Together holding hands we’ll fall,

Together..”

 

Author's Note

there are ordinaries that are most queered, yet there are quirks that are plainly ordinary.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Such honesty and truth in your words in this chapter.
"Their exaggeration to human emotions; shed a tear for a lost love, celebration for an accomplishment; an applause for a memorized speeches bothered me everyday that taught me to control mine. I calmly accept disappointments and lies brought by my own friends."
The above lines are solid. Making this story feel rare and alive. Thank you for sharing the excellent chapter.
Coyote

[Zeitgeist Manifesto]

Very clever writing here. The way you built the personality in the readers
mind was definitely something to be proud of. Nice work with the imagery
and connection. You found a way to make the reader care about the person
within the lines. I think this is most important in a story. Even the most mundane
situations become interesting.

[CHRIS ANDES]

thank you. indeed it is significant

[Calibaster]

Good job, I really liked it! :) It made me think a lot of things over, again. :) Great job!

[CHRIS ANDES]

thanks for the review :)