the constant search for something you like to do. the constant need to have a reason for everything. it hurts a little too much when your good intentions, turned out to harm another. to learn that the people whom you trust the most are taking you for granted. that there is no way out of your situation, yet you do not wish to conform.
there comes a time when the cognitive dissonance becomes too much. and after prolonged period of ranting to friends and anyone who would want to listen, you start keeping things to yourself. you really don't wish to talk about it. you keep everything to yourself, hoping and praying that perhaps, you might find a solution. you start doing circles in your head.
and that's where she find herself these days. growing quiet. growing silent. thinking of giving up the very thing that she loves to do the most - photography. why? because everytime after she shoots, the problems will flood back. and the bite is 10 times more than before.
she sits at the bus stop, watching as the last bus drove pass her. it's way past the time for her to go home. a 30-minute walk home, just turned into a 2-hour walk. the songs her mp3 is playing is just background music. kinda like those music they play in the shopping malls. random noise.
night joggers ran passed her. many turned and took a second look at her. she shouldn't be out this late. at this deserted stretch of road with construction going on.
but she couldn't bring herself to leave the bus stop. she loved the way her hair flies when the cars zoom by. loved the flashing lights of the cars. the noise the cars made when they zoom. love to imagine a story for each car. it was a temporary distraction. to distract herself from her thoughts.
and at this bus stop, she's nobody. not someone whom everyone counts on to be responsible. not the middle child that has to deal with everything. not the girl who is always expected to be happy. not the girl whom has to keep her emotions in-check. she's nothing. no strings, no responsibilities.
her handphone rang for the umpteenth times. not the person she hoped that will call. she looked at the number and for the umpteenth times, press the off button and threw it back into the bag.
she stares off into the distance, looking at the fresh wave of cars that's going to come when the traffic lights turn green. perhaps, maybe. this wave of cars will bring her troubles away.
