Pieces
April 3rd, 2020. Night.
I found comfort in dark films, stories. Maybe because in some way I can relate to them. I don’t even try to sound pessimistic or anything like that, it’s just I naturally sense and understand it. I do enjoy hopeful and bright tales. Hopeful and bright stories do cheer me up. There is a silent part of me that just observe and listen. It is sad? Yes, and no.
It was saddening to look back on how I developed this piece inside. I would never know if it’s healed or has been left untreated and rotten. I don’t know. The dark films and stories find a way to doors that are invisible at glance, with no complicated routes to follow. It’s natural. I do smile and laugh and appreciate every blessings and littlest piece of love, but it will always continue to coexist with the darker piece. What would I be without it? Would I be in peace without it? Would my life be more at ease without it? Would I like it? Would I be a better person? I don’t know. I don’t have to.
So, if you see me laughing my hearts out, it’s me. And, if by any chance you ever see me gasping for an air while my face is drowning in tears, it’s also me. If you see me with no trace of feelings and emotions, it’s nobody else but me. They are as much as this person. They hold hands as they walk in the streets and merge. I don’t happen to love myself the entire time, but I sure do accept me as a whole.