I have sold out the time that I used to think, write, and sing about you, about me, and about us. I sold the time that I used to invest in carving out an imaginary situation that had you and me and all those things that now are vanished in the void of time. I have sold it out.
It seems they had some material value for the time that I have been granted to waste on this earth. I accepted it, something is better than nothing- I had read it somewhere. It’s not that I valued the words- I valued the context.
People say that love hurts, but love didn’t hurt me. You did.
With the feelings still fermenting in me, and the spirit to distill them into words rebelling inside me, I suppress it and walk ahead. The walk is like that of the girl who walks on high heels and nice dress for the first time. With the knees bending out, ass humping out and shoulders humming down, she still feels glorious. And yet in the second split of the second she feels throwing away those hills and march ahead on her naked feet.
But the desire to emancipate herself from the gallows of being an ordinary girl and desire to set foot in the pink, gives her strength to sustain it all- the pain, the anguish, the shame and the glory. She has to do it one day and she knows she has to do it that day. Despite all the desire and outcry of her feet to revert back, the glory averts her from doing so. Glorious for only one thing- she tried out something that stands out from what she has been doing.
The glory for her is her necessity of being noticed in the crowd. It’s a necessity to move ahead burying her existing conditions.
The necessity to survive. The necessity to forget.