I wasn't much of a social person; I couldn't measure up to the standards of common human decency. It was usually me against the world, or I against I. No one would talk to me, and now finding that three people came up to me today and greeted me with such an affable nature, I found myself smiling sincerely instead of faking it like I usually do. With reasons I do not know of, a violent war ripped through me everyday, it was forgoing and endless. Every bit of my soul died with every turning of the moon. A sensation I couldn't reason with. It was like death, of the mediocre kind. Death. The thing that destroys a man, but the idea of it saves him. But since this is a mock death, it comes with pain but I guess with no love. No mourners shall pray for me, and neither shall the children sing 'Ring-a-round a Rosie'. Everyone is happy though. Mostly everyone. Yes, this small irritating voice comes in two halves. I'm so glad no one can read my thoughts.
I breathe in long strenuous breaths, which is quite aggravating to some. I take three deep breaths as I walk into the cafeteria. My fate awaits me. Cheers to fate.
I curse under breath as I see another giddy child approach me.
"Hiya Bella" she says
I smile, but then feel the pain in it, and then I sink back into my realm of depression for a second, to come back out of it in an instant. The person who greeted me didn't seem to notice.
"D'you wanna come and sit with us?" her blonde hair catching itself against the side of her perfect delicate lips.
My wrists are hurting. "Yeah sure, thanks" I say with as much enthusiasm as I can muster from the core my depressive self, and grin so much as to bare my short teeth.
My mind tells me otherwise, that I am just simply introverted and lost in a localised paradise of imagination. That is what I am, but it isn't what I long for. I want to have friends and laugh etcetera. Sigh.
I seem to not hear the conversation that's taking place in front of me, but I can hear their voices in a soft murmur. How odd. The voices around me move in a wave of sound. People are so… what's a word, passionate, at high and low frequencies. The voices are somewhat similar to music, also known as, my life, my love, my passion. Some thing that might mean something to someone could mean little or nothing to another. That is the beauty of music, and that is the beauty of human interaction.
