I spend most of these days observing. I especially enjoy observing people enjoying themselves. In one corner of my eye, someone is sipping hot cocoa, taking pleasure in the company of another. They smile, their eyes lock, nothing else seems to matter to them. In the other, a mother is tending to her most precious child, and the father making exhilarating conversation with his nephew. They smile. Directly in front of me, a large crowd of people are all laughing. Every. Single. One. They are heading towards the town centre for a most pleasurable evening of theatrical antics and some highly influential drinks. They smile too. I sit on the hard pavement, my back against the side of a lofty office building. People must be smiling in there. Sometimes, I wish, I could smile too. I close my eyes for a second, sometimes two, rarely three. When I open them, it is raining heavily. Thick clouds pile the sky, and Mother Nature is definitely not in the welcoming mood. The streets are deserted, everyone is smiling indoors. Not a sign of life, but one, her. Her clothes are torn, her face… as if it was foreshadowing. She wields a knife, clenching onto it tightly, and slowly, step by step, she comes towards me. The knife is stained with many things. Distrust, dishonesty, and discontent. Doubt, disturbance, and distress. Disbelief, disillusion, and desperation. I want to tell her that I loved her, but nothing could stop what was to happen. She weeps, but I almost couldn’t tell. Her tears are invisible. I wish mine were too. She definitely isn’t smiling. She stops at my feet, still holding onto the knife. I close my eyes once more, this time, for longer. My heart is pounding, but I do not flinch, not even in the slight. One Second Goes by, and another and one more. My eyes reveal themselves. I am blind at first. The couple takes off to somewhere else; the family is meeting another for a large reunion and the mob marches like ants onto the intercity bus. They are still smiling. Smiling
Timothy Tang
17
Rockdige Secondery
Jan 13th 1992
[[ The Wishlist ]]
I could use a new set of headphones...
More guitars?
Maybe a grand piano...
and the will power to write my books
If only life was a fantasy story...
A weekend away with my extended family perhaps? (You know who you are) (^_^)
Fantasy of Darkness (A book project of mine)
Da creater
[[ Don't talk crap, it's ****ng rude ]]
I spend most of these days observing. I especially enjoy observing people enjoying themselves. In one corner of my eye, someone is sipping hot cocoa, taking pleasure in the company of another. They smile, their eyes lock, nothing else seems to matter to them. In the other, a mother is tending to her most precious child, and the father making exhilarating conversation with his nephew. They smile. Directly in front of me, a large crowd of people are all laughing. Every. Single. One. They are heading towards the town centre for a most pleasurable evening of theatrical antics and some highly influential drinks. They smile too. I sit on the hard pavement, my back against the side of a lofty office building. People must be smiling in there. Sometimes, I wish, I could smile too. I close my eyes for a second, sometimes two, rarely three. When I open them, it is raining heavily. Thick clouds pile the sky, and Mother Nature is definitely not in the welcoming mood. The streets are deserted, everyone is smiling indoors. Not a sign of life, but one, her. Her clothes are torn, her face… as if it was foreshadowing. She wields a knife, clenching onto it tightly, and slowly, step by step, she comes towards me. The knife is stained with many things. Distrust, dishonesty, and discontent. Doubt, disturbance, and distress. Disbelief, disillusion, and desperation. I want to tell her that I loved her, but nothing could stop what was to happen. She weeps, but I almost couldn’t tell. Her tears are invisible. I wish mine were too. She definitely isn’t smiling. She stops at my feet, still holding onto the knife. I close my eyes once more, this time, for longer. My heart is pounding, but I do not flinch, not even in the slight. One Second Goes by, and another and one more. My eyes reveal themselves. I am blind at first. The couple takes off to somewhere else; the family is meeting another for a large reunion and the mob marches like ants onto the intercity bus. They are still smiling. Smiling