May 11, 2015
I was sleepwalking to school today and I told my classmates how it felt to be dead. They went 'ooh' and 'ah', like they were amazed of the old trick. Like I wasn't a corpse and I can pick whose arms I want to hold me. Someone told me they heard no other classes would take me and at 8, I sat on the floor and trying hard to see through my future without slipping the past from my hands. Until my ankles hurt as the floor crush me. I whispered to myself that, I have always misjudge and change my mind too soon. I am very afraid someone might have heard me.
After that, it rained so fucking hard and I stayed in class and told her if I was home, I'd lay in bed or listen to my rainy day playlist and drink tea. The rain had always remind me of so, so, so much things I always forget about. We both walked in the drowning water without our socks and tell each other about each other but I keep my guards up, still.
The rainwater kissed my soles but never my shoes and she told me it was her first time doing such silly thing. Me too.
When the rain stopped, we laughed about ourselves and admit who we were all these time: what's behind us. It is scary to be dissecting someone else's eyes and find what they are made of. Whatever it is, I'm still comfortable talking to myself and sing your song in the rain like nothing else matters.
Oh my god, this is what the rain reminded me today: I am dead but dead doesn't mean stop feeling stuff. I look into so many eyes and convinced myself that I am more than just being dead.
