Posted in Wonderers


Through my closed eyes, I can feel the light filtering through the curtains, transforming into a pale-yellow hue and bathing my face, exposing my scars. I squeeze both of my eyelids tight, so that no light passes through my translucent skin in the hope of letting myself disappear from this room. My ears wander off to the outside, where I can hear the usual rustling of leaves, as if the leaves are shivering in this cold breeze. It must be autumn, or maybe winter as the rustling of the leaves have thinned down for the past few weeks, and the nights are biting into my skin.

I stare at the celling, without any insight of what the future holds, and thus everyday feels like a blessing. Yet there was something about him, that prevented me from shaping my own future.

I can smell him whenever he comes to my room. I cherish those mini moments as my freedom, as he let me wander through the house unrestricted, my legs untied and there is no blindfold holding back my every step. In those moments I can finally feel time has resumed once again, trying to fill up the void it has left behind. And like an invincible enemy, it avenges my existence and I find myself running out of time.

The glare in his eyes, feels like a story untold and his expression has something hidden beneath the surface. In a melancholy tune he sings through the night, keeping us——him and I awake, where we walk through forbidden lands of imagination hand in hand. Somedays I see him wiping tears in the faint glow of fluorescent lamp, and in those very moments, the desperation of reaching out to him intensifies. His emotions are so palpable, that every time I thought about reliving his pain, I have feared of getting drowned in them. But all I have ever done is to stare at him with a mixed feeling—–some parts of hatred and more parts of love.

The rattling of his hinges reminded me of his arrival. There was haste in the way, the keys clanked against each other yet his footsteps seemed more slower than usual as he entered my room. I squeezed my eyes hard, smashing the eyelids against each other. His usual smell lingered by my nose, as he came to sit on the ground just beside my bed. There was a brief screeching noise, followed by a silence which seem to wrap itself more tightly around us day by day. But today, he leaned his head beside mine and let it rest there.

Time seemed to stop once again, pulling us more into this void and it felt everlasting. Perhaps it is the transience of our lives that make these moments so permanent, so that the impression stays in our memory forever.



From reflection to shadows, they all whisper silent tales.

23 thoughts on “Transience

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