SIWON

I hate how I read her scripts about me –always written on opposing points of view.

Was she my lover, was she a friend or was she a mere passerby?

Thinking along these lines, I had to realize: No. The apparent had been a fraud and the whole deal nothing but surface reflection. The story had been a darn good one but I’d have to concede there was nothing to it.

The dock is still, the moored boats nothing but bluish shapes under the high moon. The night is eerily quiet save for the lapping of the waves of the lake against the thick beams. Still. Cold. Silent. Dark. But it served its purpose. There never really was a time when I could think properly when I wasn’t alone.

And that was what I really needed. To think.

I sat down lightly on the thick boards, making them creak, and my bare feet dangling, the waterspray tickling my toes. It had been years since it happened. Years since –I don’t know. But everytime I see the words,  I think about it again. Had I really forgotten? Or was there something about the whole thing that keeps me hanging on long after I  was supposed to do just that?

 

SILVER

Once again, in an outpouring of sentiments. I’m not minding my coherence.

 

Some secrets are meant to be kept, and some are meant to be told. The difference is that, the latter includes the truth. I have no idea why it suddenly came to my mind, but it did. I’m sharing one of the latter.

 

I haven't written anything like this in such a long time. More than ten months, as a matter of fact. and the only reason i seem to be writing this now, is the fact that my mind is restless and my heart starts to wonder...wander.. The last time i poured my heart out i was so terribly heartbroken I couldn't seem to mind if I said your name, or if i described you all too accurately. The feeling seems to be taking over again.

 

There's this fact that you knew. on the one hand, it makes me smile that you do read what my hand writes. My curiosity gnaws at me though. i try to find a reason why you  would save such a thing. Or if you ever answered. It’s a funny thing -this. Whatever it is. Let me reiterate myself: I am in a state of confusion. first is as to why i am writing this. Enough time has passed for me to stop being so affected about these things. But my knees still grow weak, and things worry me.

 

Self-inflicted wounds, I never got the hang of them. they don't belong in my world. but it's like a brutal, mental , thinking about it. thinking about the fact that I’m still thinking about it. Thinking about the fact, that it's still a fact that I’m thinking about it.

 

Hell, yes. I’ve done things. Joked about it. Cried. Burned things. but it's as if I’m still eating your dust. ..

 

No. I don't do those anymore. I have other things.

 

My friends probably think it's become an obsession. Even i think it is. but it isn't. it's just something that ventures into my mind when I let my guard down and I’m in a pensive mood. Why do you think I continue to walk around at night?  Trying to run away from myself and my life, only to realize I’m running towards them again.

 

Now that I think about it, I try not to use the same words anymore.

I realize that those things...

That melody and harmony..

Cinnamon..

And that SARANGHAEYO..

(Although it doesn't seem to exist anymore)..

aIas still just for you.

---

 

egad... i made this like in the past hour, so sorry if it doesn't live up to anyone's expectations XD

Anyway, enjoy reading!