a lot of people get upset. they handle it in different ways. some people talk to other people about it. others eat their feelings out. others do both simultaneously. while some, run to a special place and sulk and cry. the bathroom, the bedroom, the garden. i wish i could run to those places when i'm upset, but i couldn't there are no rooms in my place. everyone must do it in front of everybody. so when i cry, the whole nation here sees it, but they don't care. they always don't. they're busy. so busy to see me. busy of what you may ask? busy of their own problems. it's so mean that they can't actually feel my feelings mutually but hey, the things they go through are bigger distractions. so i cry. warm tears in my eyes. holding a teddy bear who i wish feels sympathy for me.
i'm six, you know. my age, that is. sheila's my real name, but people call me det. or is it spelled with a 'b'? i dunno. i forgot. but it sounds the same.. i usually wear white here. too much bleach i guess, or is it because we live so high up that the sun seems so reachable? i dunno. i guess people never bothered dyeing their clothes here. it may seem to everyone that i'm happy up here but i'm not.i stay with my grandpa and grandma. nice old people, but i'm still not happy. they are kinda rich. they give me whatever i want. but it makes me feel so lonely at times. all those stuff they give you. i never bothered making friends here. but i do see a nice guy there nearby. he's sweet and cute. i kinda like him. he's about my age. but even with friends around i'm still lonely.
why am i lonely, you ask? the fact is, i really don't know. it seems like i have it all here. but something is amiss. solidity? humaniity? color?
you ask me about my parents? oh, they're down there, working to earn a living.
i wish i was living.
Note: By that time, I liked not caring about capital letters. Enjoy!
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