preface
There’s nothing particularly beautiful about humans, yet most still manage to find some illusion they find particularly mesmerising. Infatuation rules out common sense. I know there’s got to be something beautiful about humanity, but I am immune. Where some see love, intelligence, compassion, dedication, I only see neglect, narcissism, needle sharp words designed to pinprick skin just-so.
There’s a lot of thoughts inside my head, but I can’t exactly say I know what to do with them, let alone how to deal with them. I’m not good with words when they exist outside my body. I’m better with my hands; fingers running over smooth keys of a piano, stained with charcoal, splattered with ink...
There was another boy though, one who was similar to me. He was sad, like me. We never spoke, yet he was always off to the side, hidden in the shadows he created for himself. I know he listened to me play, watched me create, watch me make myself smaller by throwing parts of me into something else.
I know I wasn’t the cause, but I can’t help wondering if there was something I could’ve done. Maybe if I hadn’t been so busy making myself smaller, I could’ve helped make him bigger again. I didn’t know how sad Sad Boy was, how far gone he was. Turns out he was further than me.
Sad Boy is gone, and he thought he took all the sadness with him;
but he didn’t. It’s still here, only louder.
