From another glass wall.

Written at 15:21, School Library

Due to unfortunate circumstances, I was unable to blog earlier. However, I did run low on emotional well-being which compelled me to write instead on my sketchbook, which in all fairness, is the closest to what a diary can be, though one filled with symbolism rather than words.

Someone told me something powerful today. But I can't seem to remember. I've been forgetting things a lot easier nowadays. Perhaps it's because there's always something else on my mind. Or someone.

Erica told me to talk to Stanley. He's peering down at me with his dark innocence against the light of another glass wall. There's something missing with the way she made him. There's not a mouth. How could I talk to him?

The bluish tinge in his skin reminds me of that cold filling emptiness which repeatedly fell from my chest to my abdomen during Drama lessons. I constantly found myself scribbling on Fiq's notes, and most of them were of comparing and contrasting two very different individuals...

I said. "One digs your heart out. The other fills it back in."
And it's only now that I realized how their motives seem to be the opposite. And yet...

Regardless of where you go in life, you'd always end up missing something once in a while. I miss 2/3. And how you can stand outside the class, reach inside for a random arm and grab it for conversation.

There's so much politics to everything now.