Silent Plight

Mood: happy; thoughtful
Currently: watching a short, sad, romance anime series
Listening to: Byousoku 5 Centimeters Episode 3 (more accurately, I'm watching it); the pattering, and occasionally, pouring rain

"a chain of short stories about their distance" it says at the end of the third episode, the last one.

The clouds moved across the sky with rapid speed, and as I stared at the floor, it turned from light to dark to light. The air stirred a bit, making the loose glass pane of the window shudder. I stood up and exited the old shed. I already knew he wouldn't come today, nor would he come tomorrow. I leaned against the wall next to the door and stared at the sky as the clouds rushed by, turning the world from light to dark to light. I also know that it was just yesterday that he moved, and yet it feels like it's been several weeks since then. It just seems so far away. The nonexistent days between yesterday and today are simply blurry and gray.

Today, in the mail I received his letter. It was full of him and for a moment it felt like he was behind me right now, though there was no way he could be here. I eagerly started a letter in return. I had so many things I wanted to tell him, to share. There was simply too many things to write down, but I wrote them all down, all along with my feelings.

Today I went to visit him, in Europe, a trip that was longer than my stay. We spent all day together, talking about all of the things we've always wanted to share. Night was falling, and I had to leave for the airport already. We stopped by the Eiffel Tower and simply stared at each other. Too aware of the time. Quietly, we kissed. I knew that we wouldn't be together. Yet those kinds of worries were drowned out for the moment because time seemed to pause then.

For the past two years, it's been constant letters and text messages. Those were the strands of our relationship. However, even with the hundreds of messages we sent one another, the distance between our hearts never decreased. Eventually, there was more and more homework, harder exams, and more demands from my everyday life. Slowly, it's become increasingly troublesome to continuously write him letters. As though faced with the same problem, I no longer receive anything in my mailbox every three days. Everyday started to grow more quiet and dull.

We were going out for three years before things ended. Yet I still love him. Every other guy who passed by me, I looked at them and smiled friendly. But in honesty, I was looking much farther beyond them, staring at what I could not reach, what I'd never be able to touch. Blundering each time I had a chance to tell him how I felt, I never took them, and so today became today. Everyday became blurry and gray.

Today I had a dream, a dream from long ago. Back to when we were young, when we stopped by the Eiffel Tower and the world seemed to have waited a moment for us. At that time we made promises we knew we could never keep. Despite it all, I still love him, even as he grew older and got engaged. I straggle on, fighting everything, though I lost my will to work and I stopped looking forward to the next day.

Today I walked down the road that headed towards the shed where I used to always meet up with him in. However, when I reached it, it was no longer there. Only grass filled the void, with bald patches of soil were revealed here and there. I crossed the train tracks, passing by a man as a did. I had a strong feeling, all of the sudden, if I turned around, he would too. From the opposite side of the tracks from where I originally was, I turned around slowly, as the yellow and black stripped bar lowered and the signal flashed, warning me of the upcoming train. From the corner of my eye, I saw that he was slowly turning towards me too. Before I could even clearly see his face, the train rushed by, throwing up the dead leaves into the air. I stood there staring at the train run past by, staring as I would have if the train never came. When the train finally passed, the spot that I was staring at was empty. The road further past that spot, the one I treaded on a moment ago, was empty. I was disappointed, and yet I smiled just a bit.

I took two steps backwards before turning around and continued walking down the fall crusted road.

Tee Hee

The Wok-Fu servers are currently down for maintenance, so I'm here to blog some more!
Yesterday night, I had a random burst of inspiration. Unfortunately it has no relation to the current story I'm writing, so I'm putting it aside for a new story. I think the idea came from that one Vocaloid video I was referring to a few blog posts ago. You know, with the mental hospital. Since I believe no one will steal my idea and claim it as their own, I'm going to briefly explain my idea. I don't really know how the idea came to me, I think I was wondering about how people ate if they were in straight jackets, so I got the idea that workers fed the patients. From there I came to the idea of a person working at a mental hospital falling in love with one of the patients. I kind of felt that the story wouldn't work as well if I just made it a one-sided, unrequited love sort of story, so more ideas started popping up in my head.
Here's what I got.
So the girl isn't really insane or in need of being separated and treated away from the rest of the world, to the reader's view anyways. The society is like the ones in Fahrenheit 451 or The Giver. As a quick explanation for those of you who may have not read the two books--which I think you should some point in time--the society is different from our's in the sense where the government limits the citizen's ability to independently think. Well, the society is going to be a bit like that, or so I plan to make it that way. Anyhow, I was thinking about putting in slavery into the story, where one girl openly spoke how she believed that there shouldn't be masters and slaves; everyone should be equal. Of course the government didn't like what she was doing, so they declared publicly that she was mentally ill, therefore putting her into solitary. Then a worker at a mental hospital comes along, just doing his job, when he gets a new patient, which is the girl who spoke of freedom (I've yet to think of names). He finds himself captivated by the strange glimmer in her eyes and her behavior, different from all the other patients who actually weren't mad before either, but they were all slowly driven crazy from solitude. This particular girl, however, seems to keep her cool (only on the outside perhaps) and the worker seems interested by it. As the story progresses, that interest starts to develop into love. He helps her break out and they go off to save the world.
Yeah, I'm not really sure about that last part, it seems a bit too farfetched. I haven't really worked out the details, not to mention my ideas are pretty glitchy all over the place, but it's just a rough idea about what the story may come to be. Anyone interested?

Turn a Deaf Ear to

The campus vibrated with so much noise that I felt myself being trembled by it. It was distorting my concentration so I mouthed the words.
"Chapter Ten: Stardust. It has occasionally been remarked upon that it is as easy to overlook something large and obvious as it is to overlook something small and niggling, and that the large things one overlooks can often cause problems." I continued to whisper to myself the rest of the text. When I finished, I flipped the page. I shifted my hands so that one hand could hold open the book on my lap. I raised the other hand a distance away from my face. Something hard hit my palm and I glanced at the floor to see a small rock.
"Please stop bothering me," I said, looking up at the group of boys making irritated faces at me.
"You’re so weird. Always sitting there and reading. Don’t you have any friends, you geek?" Brandon remarked.
"Of course, he doesn’t. He only talks to himself most of the time. Who’d want to hang out with a freak like him?" said Patrick.
The pack started laughing hysterically at nothing and walked off. I went back to reading.
I was disrupted again soon by a girl. I noticed her approaching me from behind, so I turned around. She looked surprised for a moment and then she began to be flustered. Finally, she made distinct hand signals that I recognized because my parents made me study it. The girl said, "Can you help me? I’m trying to find Room 312, but I can’t seem to find it."
I smiled and said, "Sure." I quickly placed my bookmark, closed the book, and tucked it into my backpack. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and then said, "Follow me."
We walked down the hallway when the girl's hand started to move again.
"My name is Ashley."
"Nice to meet you," I said politely, "My name is Cecilio."

. . . . . .

"You know, I haven't told anyone, rather, my parents forbid me to," I confided, "To say that I'm actually deaf."
Ashley made a shocked face, but quickly made sloppy hand signals that said sorry repeatedly.
"It's okay," I said with a sad smile, "You of all people can't tell, since you can't even speak. But even the boys who make fun of me. They all don't notice a thing."

. . . . . .

I felt a slight quaking from a distance away and it grew stronger and stronger. I turned back around to watch Ashley's back as she crossed the street. My eyes dashed towards the side to see a car, its speed did not slow for a turn, but rather, sped up since the traffic light turned yellow.
"Ashley!" I yelled. As I tried to run to her, I saw Ashley turn her head back towards me, but then a car promptly stopped, way too far out on the painted crosswalk and in my way. I jumped back, startled that I didn't even notice it coming. I stumbled over my own feet and fell against the wall behind me. I watched over the car top dumbly as the world seemed to go in slow motion and the car approached Ashley who's mouth opened in horror.
For a moment, I thought I heard the screeching of tires and Ashley's shriek.
I soon needed the wall for support for my legs gave way and I sank to the floor.
What.
What was this devouring feeling? This emotion that stole the air from my scream and robbed me of my strength. It tied my throat and blurred my vision. What was this feeling? This feeling of. Of. Of. Loneliness?