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1st October 2016

I was in the middle of the parking lot, in the middle of the night, staring at the lock screen of my phone.

12:24, She's late. Recalling our old memories, with a chuckle, I added a word to my thought, Again.

Not long after my eyes got a bit teary from gazing at the street lamp, they could see someone running towards my direction.

I wonder how is it like to see the same world that I see but through your vision.
To see those same smiling faces, how much I dream, in your way not mine, not mine.
To admire how everyone’s hair, eyes, skin vary.
But all I see are different shades of grey.

I wonder how it like is to stare the same nature through my friend’s vision.
She says the sunset looks beautiful as the color varies everyday.
Sometimes, she says it’s
yellow; orange; or even lilac.
But all of them are shades of grey for me.

I wonder how it is like to watch fireworks through my brother’s vision.
When we burst them up in Deepawali and he excitedly says how beautiful it looks.
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pages filled with emotions and perplexity. these are memoirs of: things that never happened. occasions that still haunt me. struggles of creating art. love for melancholy. and nostalgia for sounds of thoughts.

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