“What’s wrong? Why are you being like this?”

As someone threw me that question I just watched it land somewhere, never bothering in picking it up. Up, up and up it goes and down it came crashing inevitably due to its weight.

“What’s wrong?”

I just stared at the person speaking— too occupied with the answers my brain is coming up with but too strained in keeping my mouth shut. How tiring it is really to hear the same questions from different people. Blah blah blah they said, blah blah blah. It feels like reading the same sentence in a paragraph of a book— no matter how much you want to get over it, you can’t because the damn world won’t stop being noisy.

“Nothing.”
It isn’t nothing but may I ask you a question instead? If I tell it to you, would you care to listen? If I do, will you understand? Will you spare me your judgement? I don’t think so. 

“I’m alright.”
I’m not. I am a walking chessboard right now. You see, there’s a battle going on inside me but I no longer see its purpose. I no longer know my purpose. I hate myself but I also believe I am better than others. I think I’m mad at the one above but how am I mad at someone I don’t even know if I still believe in? 

“Whatever it is, I’m here.”

No you won’t be.  You’d be somewhere unreachable when I need you. The word busy was created for people like you. Don’t worry, I never expected things from anyone anyway. People say promises they’ll break. You probably rehearsed that reply anyway. Even worse, you would have said that even if I stay silent.  I mean that’s the perfect and most utilized response to every person which bears with her/him a problem. You see, if I’d say I am not alright, you would have listened to me, gave me advice and at the finish line, you’ll end up saying what you just said. People listen not because they want to listen but people do because they want to reply and slam it to your face that they are better than you. You took the longer route of pain but you come as empty as those who took the shorter one. That’s pure bullshit but that’s a fact. No sweat, I ain’t shedding any tear over your concern.

“Thank you.”

I wanted to end this conversation. I feel awkward and embarrassed for both of us. I can no longer watch your concerned face but most especially, I can’t stand being mocked by myself over this scene. We both know what we just said to each other are lies but we’re too damn anxious to get out of this so you’ll just have to let it go and I’d be happy to, too.

“Goodbye. “

Well, huh, I guess there goes another one. 

 

 

 

 

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