Resting my head upon the car window,I chase raindrops on it.
The uncomfortable pace of silence is back,my family at unrest.Always upset.
It fails to surprise me anymore.
The makeshift summer swings that hung from the trees are now gone..Autumn sets in comfortably,the dappled sun filters through the spaces between syrupy golden leaves.Leaves that sparkle with a slight glow,competing with the fierce sun.
It's an ideal Sunday..My eyes seduced by sleep,my stomach laden and content.My father silent,at a distance from which I cannot tell if he is happy.I have barely ever been able to tell the difference,anyway..except from the audible grunts of disapproval.
My parents small talk about trees and inconsequential people,tactfully avoiding the omnipresence of dysfunction eating away at our sensibility.
Maybe later,I will crave for something sweet and watch weekend television with my father or lose myself to another work of fiction,perhaps.A normal family thing to do,I guess.Maybe,even laugh a little,a sad stifle of laughter watching Sunday slip away.
But all I can think of on this languid noon is swimming pools.I daydream of them.I feed my mind with the contentment of the thought of swimming.It's far from summer,the last one far long gone.I have never been fast on my feet,but swimming..it was the closest I got to flying.Almost like..escaping,running away from the blank noise.I was pushed into the deep edge even before I could put a sentence together in writing..and I can't tell if it has done me any good.But I dream of the chlorine breeze growing upon me.
The uncomfortable pace of silence is back,my family at unrest.Always upset.
It fails to surprise me anymore.
The makeshift summer swings that hung from the trees are now gone..Autumn sets in comfortably,the dappled sun filters through the spaces between syrupy golden leaves.Leaves that sparkle with a slight glow,competing with the fierce sun.
It's an ideal Sunday..My eyes seduced by sleep,my stomach laden and content.My father silent,at a distance from which I cannot tell if he is happy.I have barely ever been able to tell the difference,anyway..except from the audible grunts of disapproval.
My parents small talk about trees and inconsequential people,tactfully avoiding the omnipresence of dysfunction eating away at our sensibility.
Maybe later,I will crave for something sweet and watch weekend television with my father or lose myself to another work of fiction,perhaps.A normal family thing to do,I guess.Maybe,even laugh a little,a sad stifle of laughter watching Sunday slip away.
But all I can think of on this languid noon is swimming pools.I daydream of them.I feed my mind with the contentment of the thought of swimming.It's far from summer,the last one far long gone.I have never been fast on my feet,but swimming..it was the closest I got to flying.Almost like..escaping,running away from the blank noise.I was pushed into the deep edge even before I could put a sentence together in writing..and I can't tell if it has done me any good.But I dream of the chlorine breeze growing upon me.
I have no words for you, but this: <3
ReplyDelete