Saturday 25 June 22
Some part of me still wants to know all about you. There. Exactly in the right corner of my heart. It quivers and gets squeezed so tight, encircled by memories and figments of imagination.
Some part of me still wants to know all about you. There. Exactly in the right corner of my heart. It quivers and gets squeezed so tight, encircled by memories and figments of imagination.
I miss sitting next to each other on deserted wooden benches of the campus, focusing all my attention on that part of my back that touches the bench, pressing my backbone into it. I miss leaving alone the voices that the air carries heavily, forgetting my eardrums, and instead, sending down all the nerves to the spine, listening to the viberations that the back of the bench carries along. I miss cherishing the viberations that penetrate into my flesh, that reach my heart sooner than any murmuring could ever reach any ear.
There's so much pressure on my cheeks that I can't smile. They almost hurt. This is all because I just got suspended from the National Library. Yes. Definitely.
Crying in the study hall: unlocked. So many new experiences. I have lost count. burnt my lip by a cigarette last week, joined an intellectual discussion in a dark smoky cafe the week before. Had never smoked a hand-rolled cigarette before either. Interesting. Still unable to talk about the main and most important event. I wish I could only stop the tears.