i keep every secret but nobody tells me anything anymore so recently, the only secrets i have are of my own
It makes me feel wanted.
Are you kidding, this post is so heavy with sarcasm that if sarcasm were made of fat and sugar and someone ate this post, they’d die from a heart attack+diabetes in 2 nanoseconds.
The door was always wide open for him. He never needed a key to open it. It would show itself to him at random intervals and it was always open. He would always walk straight in. The room was always changing. One time, it was a room for child. There would be a toy box left open and toys littered across the floor. From the window, the sunlight shone through, giving the room a bright feeling. He would walk around the room, look out the window, and sometimes play with the toys. Another time, the room was black. Nothing was visible. Completely different. The light spilling out from the door left open was the only way he could see. Even then, the light was not enough to penetrate the infinite darkness. He would walk around, cautiously and slowly. He didn’t want to disturb whoever owned the room.
Whatever form the room took, he enjoyed it. The plain door appeared suddenly without warning and it took him by surprise at first. Sometimes the door didn’t appear for days. But he began to accept the nature of the door. He looked forward to seeing the door appear, excited to see it open for him. The door began to appear less frequently however. He wasn’t bothered much. After all, the unpredictable side of the door was something he liked. Every time the door showed up, he cherished the time in the room. Sometimes, he was too tired or occupied to spend as much time in the room as he liked. But he tried his best to make each time count.
The door appeared even less frequently now. When it does, he would grab the slightly warm doorknob and gently tug at the door to open it slightly more to let his body through. He would leave the room earlier than before. It was not because he wanted to, but he felt he had to.
The door now, was there everyday. It never disappeared like it has used to. It seemed as though it had become attached to the wall behind it. He didn’t mind it too much. It felt uneasy to have something foreign become permanent to him but he accepted it. He didn’t have a choice anyway.
He couldn’t get in anymore. The door has locked itself. He never needed a key to get in, the door was always open for him. He decided to wait for the door to open. He could wait. He had time. The door no longer vanished. During his wait, he would observe the door. He could not tell what wood the door was made of, but it had a sophisticated design on it. The design was too complex for him to understand. He admired it anyway. One did not need to understand to see the beauty of it. That’s what he thought.
It does not open. Some how, he knew this would happen and he has been prepared for this but the twinge in his chest still hurts. Why did this happen? He has no idea. What was it? Does the door no longer need him? What was he to the room? Why did the room even show itself to him? Did the room change? No, that was not the reason. The room changing was nothing new. Was it him that changed? That must have been it. He has changed. What has changed about him? He does not know. Usually one does not notice his own change.
He thinks back. He thinks the door let him in. But now he is not sure. Did the door really let him in? Was it just not him forcing himself inside? He can’t remember anymore. He knows nothing. The room he has been inside. Was that real or was that just an illusion that he made? Who is he? Did the door even exist? Did he imagine everything himself for himself?
He does not know. He is left only with the door, confusion, and a small pain. The pain is nothing but a minuscule ache. At least the door really does exist. He approaches it slowly and reaches for the doorknob. It is lukewarm. He twists the doorknob clockwise and pulls slowly. The door creaks. It is not locked. The door is now fully open. But he does not step inside to meet the room he felt so familiar with. He cannot. He does not move. He stares straight at the brick wall he now faces.
I would unsubscribe to the SAT Question of the Day emails except it’s been a part of me for so long that at one point of my life, it started to assume the role of a “time to sleep” warning. At around 12:30am~1:30am, it’ll appear in my inbox and a notification from GoogleTalk will tell me I got an email. That’s when I know that I’m staying up too late or I’ve been procrastinating for too long. So as annoying as these emails are, I think I’ll keep it for a little longer.
- [girls talking about who to ask for sadies (even though its hella early to even start considering imo)]
- Me: I'm probably just going to stay home on sadies day and play games by myself.
- Nick: Taichi! You gotta be optimistic! What was that one game you really want that isn't out yet?
- Me: Monster Hunter Portable 3rd?
- Nick: We'll stay home and play Monster Hunter Portable 3rd! YEA OPTIMISM
So I really wanted to buy this game because I’m a fan of this series of games. The only source of income I have is lunch money I receive from my parents. So this week, I’ve been attempting to not eat lunch to save the lunch money to buy this game.
Day 3: Gave up and bought food
Night of Day 3: Research the game, decide the newer version of the game which MIGHT be released in America is worth saving up for rather than get an immediate solution to my gaming cravings. Become happy that I can resume being fat again.
Sigh oh eating… How I love thee.